


Devil Went Down to Georgia

by suddenlyswept



Series: Devil Went Down to Georgia [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-16
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 94,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suddenlyswept/pseuds/suddenlyswept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Captain James T. Kirk retires from Starfleet at the grand age of 32 and moves to a small town in Georgia, only to find himself fascinated by his very married neighbor, Dr. Leonard McCoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To The Evening Star

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted at my livejournal during July, August, and September of 2010. I am cleaning it up a bit and posting here- resisting the many urges to rewrite.
> 
> The original (and still amazing) cover art can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9421004).

**Chapter One**

 

It was green. Very, very green. Green like the shimmer of Gaila’s skin when she was really, really, orgasmically happy. He’d never imagined that Georgia was this green. Particularly in winter. Well, he’d never really taken the time to imagine what Georgia was like, but still. The closest he’d ever come to the South was New Orleans, which counted, but was like its own little world. And the only things he’d seen in New Orleans were the insides of bars—many, many bars.

 

So perhaps this plan of his to retire, at the grand old age of thirty-two, was as Spock said—highly illogical. But it was his plan. Well, it was his drunkenly conceived, impulsively followed plan. But it was his. And he wasn’t gonna change it, damn it. Until he got bored.  

 

With a mental shrug, Jim parked the shiny red hover car that was the new love of his life, grabbed his bag, and hopped out. He snorted to himself as he walked up the wooden steps (in miserable repair) and surveyed his new kingdom from his porch. Yup, still green. That was a lotta land out there. Just sitting. What the hell was he going to do with it? He’d left Iowa and the land he’d inherited from his father under his mother’s capable care because he hadn’t any desire to be a farmer. And now, he had bought _a plantation_ in _Georgia_ for Christ’s sake. He could well understand his mother’s consternation.

 

Sighing, he pulled the keys, yes, real old-fashioned keys, the realtor had sent to Starfleet out of his pocket and opened the door. Which creaked. He walked into the empty house, relieved to see that it was spider web and creepy shadows-less. Someone, most likely the realtor, had come back and opened all the shades and blinds, letting the winter sun in. Someone had even swept the bare wooden floors and polished cause there was nary a speck of dust and the faint tang of lemon hung on the air.

 

Trailing a hand up a curving banister, Jim headed for the bedrooms. He’d been told that the house came with furniture but after a quick glance at the bare living and dining rooms, he assumed it had been put away somewhere. But maybe he would get lucky and he wouldn’t actually have to hunt down a bed. There were four rooms on the second level of the house and he discovered his three guest bedrooms and extra bathroom before he found the master bedroom. Well, at least the crew would have somewhere to sleep when they inevitably descended on him.

 

The master bedroom was, naturally, the final door down the hall, furthest from the stairs. He pushed the door open, initially distracted by the old fashioned door handle and keyhole placed in it.

 

Finally looking up, he saw to his relief that he would not have to hunt down a bed. He dropped his bag inside the door and headed towards the bed, curious about the large box sitting atop it. None of his stuff would have gotten here yet. Was this something from the previous owners?

 

One look at the shipping label caused a smile to break out on his face, relieving some of the exhaustion written so expressively there. Uhura.

 

Ripping open the box, he found a small card sitting daintily atop a mound wrapped in tissue paper. Pulling open the card he read:

 

_Captain-_

_I hope your new home is not the shack without running water Scotty has predicted it would be. Since I have no doubt you didn’t think to order linens before disappearing into the wilds of Georgia, we thought this the most logical gift. Spock would (and did) approve. Enjoy. And Scotty snuck in a bottle of whisky he thinks I don’t know about, so enjoy that as well. Not in one night._

_The Valiant is a wonderful ship but it’s not the Enterprise. And you’re not here, which is peaceful, but odd. We’ll miss you, Jim. Any time you want to come back or perhaps follow Sulu’s suggestion and become a pirate-captain, you’ve got yourself a chief communications officer and engineer._

_Comm us! That’s an order!_

_Captain N. Uhura, NCC-1809, U.S.S Valiant._

_post script - Love, Nyota and Scotty._

 

Jim laughed aloud and dug through the paper to find an entire bedding set—sheets, comforter, cover, pillows, and even a couple of those fancy pillows he never knew what to do with. He pulled them out of the box and unwrapped them and grinned wider. All hypoallergenic and in various shades of green that seemed to compliment each other. At least, to Jim’s inexperienced eye. It’d been ten years since he’d had to worry about anything domestic and so Uhura had been right, he hadn’t thought about linens. And even if he had, he wouldn’t have known what to buy.  It was, not surprisingly, the perfect gift. And perfectly Nyota.

 

Plus, when he had unfolded the comforter he found the bottle of twenty-year old Glenfiddich he held it reverently in his hands and blew out a breath of pure appreciation. Scotty must have gotten it when he’d gone home. Glenfiddich was almost impossible to get a hold of these days. You couldn’t even find it in most bars and when you could, the cost was fucking astronomical.

 

He moved carefully, cradling it more carefully than he would a child. Putting it _very carefully_ on a chair next to the bed and stuffed a pillow next to it so it wouldn’t roll away. He considered possibly leaving it upstairs so as to not risk the chance of dropping it on the way back downstairs, but then thought of the glasses hopefully in the kitchen and reconsidered. He would go slowly. No doubt his leg would appreciate that anyway.

 

Quickly making up his new bed, Jim considered a nap. He could do that now. And the thought was appealing. Just as he was toeing off his shoes, his stomach growled—loudly. Crap. He didn’t bring any food, figuring he would check out Madison, the closest town, but he wasn’t in the mood so much anymore and his replicator wouldn’t be delivered until Monday.

 

The house was barely equipped with any modern conveniences- environmental controls only. Not even comms had been installed. It was the very definition of a fixer-upper. Jim was strangely looking forward to it. God knows it would give him something to do while he figured out what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life.

 

Sighing, he took the precious bottle, carrying it against his chest and hugging the pillow around it for safe measure, he made his way downstairs to search out the kitchen. It was a cheery little room. The yellow paint had faded somewhat and the white curtains were looking a little dingy, but the countertops were actual wood, a golden birch, as was the center island and small table tucked into a bay window . . . a window that overlooked the land at the back of the house and the woods beyond that.

 

More intriguing, however, was sitting in the center of his console. Today was just a day for surprises, apparently. Jim carefully placed his bottle on the counter, moving over to the communications console sitting there. There was a message icon blinking causing Jim to blink himself. Apparently he had both electricity and communications set up. How the hell had that happened?

 

Pressing a finger to the screen, the console took a minute before giving out an identifying “James Tiberius Kirk” and opening his video message. Apparently he had security on his comm as well.

 

Jim smiled fondly as the image of his stoic first officer appeared and offered the tradition _ta’al_.

 

“Captain-

 

“As my last act as your first officer, I took the liberty of having your electricity and water turned on, as well as communications activated. I did not believe your plan to ‘wing it’ would be sufficient preparation for moving into a new home. As I was informed the dwelling had never been equipped with communication consoles [ _and Jim could fairly read the disconcertion in his eyebrows here_ ], and I was hesitant to have one installed, I have asked that they provide you with a portable screen to prevent any damage being done to your home. Also, determining that their security was insufficient for your needs, I took the liberty of upgrading the security system to Enterprise levels. An identifying fingerprint will be sufficient for initial communication but you will need to finish the security protocols within twenty-four hours. I trust, as Madison, Georgia is not known for its nightlife, that to be sufficient time.

 

_Spock paused, his facial features relaxing infinitesimally—Jim recognizing this as deep fondness._

 

“I have spoken with T’Pring regarding your invitation to visit and she asked me to relay that she is accommodating of such a request. We shall visit your home for five Terran days, commencing on the fourth of July. I understand that to be a significant date of celebration on that part of Earth and my research indicates Madison, Georgia celebrates the holiday quite exuberantly. Both T’Pring and I are curious to witness the antiquated Terran custom of fireworks.”

 

Jim laughed at this.

 

Spock’s voice switched from scientist-tone to friend:

 

“Furthermore, I believe our visit will be most anticipated at that time. I have found it disconcerting these last few weeks to be without the familiarity of your presence. I can only imagine this will increase as time passes.

 

“Also, please send a message to indicate you have arrived safely. Commander Chekov has contacted me repeatedly, seeking news of your status. As his vocal speeds continue to increase, his accent is thickening in proportion. If this continues unabated, I shall be required to send them to Nyota for translation.

 

“Captain Sulu has asked that I once again repeat his offer of the Endeavor to become your new, quote-unquote pirate ship.

 

_Spock raised an eyebrow, this time offering Jim to share in his amusement_

 

“He continues to fail to see the illogic of such an endeavor. As you would most certainly be captured by the Federation and tried for treason, I can only recommend that you continue to ignore Captain Sulu’s offer and perhaps speak to Admiral Pike and request he keep a stringent eye on the U.S.S. Endeavor.

 

“Dr. Chapel has settled comfortably into her accommodations on New Vulcan and has asked me to reiterate her cautions against any strenuous activity. Have thus reminded you, I believe I shall simply say, live long and prosper, my friend. Spock out.”

 

Jim ignored the foolishness he felt at returning the _ta’al_ to a faded image, but did so anyway. He missed his crew deeply and Spock in particular. It had ultimately been the fact that he and Spock would not be allowed to serve together that had caused him to retire his commission. Starfleet command had deemed it an almost criminal waste of resources. Jim deemed command criminally stupid. They were the most efficient, successful command team in the fleet. Hell, the only reason he was alive was because Spock had saved his ass so many times.

 

But they had wanted to promote Jim to admiral, Spock to commodore and give him his own ship. Jim hadn’t wanted to be shoved behind a desk and Spock hadn’t wanted command. Spock had never wanted command. He was a scientist first and foremost. While he was brilliant at diplomacy and was a great commander, he had never wanted the captain’s chair. And he had absolutely no interest in serving under any other captain.

 

When they both had informed Starfleet that they would serve together or not at all, Starfleet had called what they believed to be a bluff. It wasn’t. Both men had resigned their commissions, much to Starfleet’s shock and chagrin. Spock had been offered the opportunity to chair the Astrophysics department at the VSA and he had taken it, a gleam of excitement in his eye. T’Pring, his bondmate, had also been offered a position at the VSA for her work in xenopsychology.

 

And while Jim had been inundated with offers—everything from private sector ship design to teaching to hosting his own holovision show—he had turned them all down.

 

He was thirty-two years old and grounded. The youngest captain to ever be granted command, the most decorated officer, in Starfleet history, but they wanted to ground him. Felt he had become too famous to still make an effective captain and would do better in the admiralty.

 

It’s not like there wasn’t a part of Jim that didn’t understand that. After ten years on the Enterprise there were few worlds that hadn’t at least heard of him. In the last couple of years, his notoriety and reputation had caused significant problems on some worlds they have visited. And while his presence often made enemy ships hesitant to attack, there had been some run-ins with Romulan and Klingon ships _eager_ to test themselves against the legendary Enterprise and her captain. So Jim understood. He did.

 

But he wasn’t going to become a Starfleet paper pusher—other than Pike, most admirals spent so much time behind a desk that they became complacent, mentally and physically. Starfleet had some of the toughest fitness requirements in the quadrant and their admirals all had a paunch. Nuh huh. No thanks. Jim would keep his toned abs and sanity because for as many promises they’d made, Jim understood the political reality of his position. He had as many enemies in the admiralty as allies, but it was Admiral Komack who was in charge and Komack couldn’t stand him. To have to report directly to that old bastard? Yeah, wasn’t gonna happen in this universe.

 

So, here he was. In Georgia. With absolutely nothing to do and no idea what he wanted to do. Should be great.

 

Jim shook himself out of his dreary thoughts and reached for the one golden ray of sunshine in all of this. A glass dish filled with . . . oh god, was that chicken pot pie? _Yes!_ Actual chicken pie. From all appearances, _homemade_ chicken pot pie. A small card sat next to it that simply read, Welcome to Madison. Eleanora McCoy.

 

Suddenly deeply grateful to Spock for having his utilities turned on, Jim spent five minutes figuring out how to work the oven and then shoved in the potpie. He then danced around the kitchen anxiously, managing to wait all of ten minutes before going to take it out.

 

Crap! He needed a . . .  towel-thingy. He’d seen them in his mother’s hands before. Frantically searching for whatever those things were called, Jim opened every drawer in the kitchen, gratefully finding forks and seizing one triumphantly, but no towels. Huh.

 

Looking longingly at the potpie, he considered his options. He would not be defeated. He hesitated for about one second before stripping off his sweater, the blue one Gaila had knit for him for Christmas last year, and prayed he wouldn’t light it on fire. Man, would she be _pissed_.

 

Carefully wrapping the sweater around his hands, he carefully slid them around the edges of the glass dish, trying to avoid the hot rack for fear he would go up in flames. Finally he was in position, tensed his muscles, and then _seized_ it!

 

Not waiting for the glass to burn his hands, he fairly tossed it onto the main island, wincing as it slid across and hit his new portable console. Jim chased it and nudged it away with a cashmere wrapped finger, choosing to ignore the burn mark now at the edge of the console.

 

Figuring the sliding worked well enough; he slid it once more, smiling when it neared the opposite edge without tipping over. Fairly leaping onto a stool, Jim unwrapped his hand, brandished his fork, and dug in. _Oh sweet baby Vulcans_ , _it was_ _PHENOMENAL!_

Barely warm, in fact, cold in some places (clearly he hadn’t worked out the kinks of his oven quite yet), but _sooo_ good anyway. Oh, may the Kirk ancestors bestow blessings on Eleanora McCoy, whoever she was. Jim vowed to find her and offer her his hand in marriage, which could be the only appropriate response to this potpie.

 

He ate greedily; suddenly remembering it had been at least twenty-four hours since he had eaten last. Four minutes, four glorious minutes, later the pie was gone. Sated and feeling a little sleepy, Jim decided that so far Madison was a lovely place. It was green, it was quiet, it was polite (by not bugging him on his first day), and had amazing women like Eleanora McCoy who provided food to hungry ex-captains. So far, so good.

 

Jim’s pleasure was doubled when he found the whiskey glasses—honest to goodness whiskey glasses—hiding in a cabinet. Enjoying the heft of the glass beneath his fingers, Jim grabbed the bottle plus pillow and headed back upstairs, trying to ignore the steady throb in his leg.

 

He thought he had seen a door . . . ah, right there. Jim swung open a door to reveal a staircase and with a grin he headed up. When his head cleared the floor, a slow smile stretched across his mouth. This here was the whole reason he’d bought this house.

 

When looking for houses, the only requirement he’d put in the search engine was a library. Hundreds of pictures of generic rooms with bookshelves later, he’d come across this.

 

It was clearly initially used as an attic—a very spacious attack. It must span the majority of the house, Jim considered, looking at the sheer square meters of space in front of him. It was wooden floors like the rest of the house but there a chaise perched near the center of the room.

 

Jim trailed a hand over the oak bookshelves, admiring the craftsmanship. They themselves were beautiful and the fact that the house had come with the previous owner’s books, actual paper books, had nearly sealed the deal for Jim. But it had been was what above those shelves that had determined he would be moving a farm in Georgia.

 

For there, in the most unlikely places, was a library that spoke to Jim’s soul. For the previous owner had had the roof replaced. Wood had been ripped out and replaced with the same kind of glass that had been in the Enterprise’s observation room. In about fifteen minutes, Jim gauged, he would be able to see the stars.

 

Feeling relaxed for the first time since he had said goodbye to the Enterprise and her crew, Jim trailed his fingers along the shelves and stopped when he came across an old, battered volume. Gently tracing the spine, Jim considered this particular moment. He didn’t believe in destiny. If anything, he had been shown, quite violently, that a single choice could change an entire universe. But this, this slim volume of William Blake tested that. Just a little.

 

He settled onto the chaise, broken open the bottle and poured himself a single drink. Leaning comfortably against the old piece of furniture, making a lazy mental note to have it reupholstered at some point, he opened the volume of poetry and found was he was looking for. Reading the words, he waited for the last vestige of sunset to fade.

 

When it had he leaned back, toasted the sky where most of his family now lived, found a particular planet, and spoke gently, “ _Thou fair-haired angel of the evening . . . Smile on our loves . . . protect them with thine influence_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The lines come from William Blake's poem 'To the Evening Star'. It can be read here: http://www.portablepoetry.com/poems/william_blake/to_the_evening_star.html.


	2. BBQ Pulled Pork is the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has an interesting trip to the grocery store. And meets one Leonard McCoy.

 

 

Jim looked around him with no small amount of wonder. It was perhaps the most elaborate grocery store he’d ever seen. Well, not that he’d seen many, the last one having been the corner shop near the academy. But this was just . . . weird.

 

The lighting was bright but not harsh. Jim was pretty sure the floors and displays were real oak, and the food was intergalactic in theme. Orion figs and Scottish apples sat next to each other, Vulcan oranges (and how the hell had they gotten those?) sat next to Andorian plums. He really just . . . hadn’t been expecting this.

 

Hallie Wilde shifted next to him, suddenly reminding Jim that he’d persuaded the young waitress to show him where the grocery store was when she’d gotten off shift. He’d made the mistake of heading to a diner first thing this morning and had been bombarded by people wanting to introduce themselves. Apparently news of his moving here had been leaked before his arrival.

 

And Jim understood. Hell, he knew how small towns worked and for the most part appreciated it. And he was used to a certain amount of recognition at this point. He just hadn’t really thought about the fact that he would be living with these people. Or that he no longer had Spock to Vulcan glare them into remembering their manners and giving him some privacy.

 

But what he did have was one Miss Hallie Wilde, sixteen years old, who blushed on a dime but chased away the patrons who wanted to introduce themselves while Jim was hunched over his plate of biscuits and gravy. In the fifteen minutes it had taken for his food to arrive, Jim had been introduced to most the restaurant. Who’d then apparently commed the rest of town cause suddenly the restaurant was packed and everyone was looking at Jim, who pretended not to see them by actually answering the messages from his crew assuring them he was alive.

 

So when Hallie, who’d hardly done more than look at him, blush, and nod when he’d given his order, came from the kitchen with his food and saw four people around his table, she pushed them aside with an expert bump of her hip, “Y’all git! Let the poor captain eat in peace. Come on now, _git_!”

 

But she’d done it with such a sweet smile the four men attempting to get his opinion on the growing tensions with the Orion Syndicate ( _and had he, you know, met any real Orion women???_ ) shrugged good naturedly and moved back to their tables. Hallie had slid the plate in front of him and refilled his coffee cup, immediately garnering herself his everlasting loyalty.

 

Jim had smiled his most charming smile, which widened when a blush stained her cheeks, “Miss Hallie, would you marry me? And maybe tell some admirals to ‘git’ next time I get roped into a Starfleet state dinner?”

 

A small smile touched her mouth and she spoke to him for the first time, “I’m sixteen years old.”

 

“I’ll wait,” Jim proclaimed with an exaggerated wink. “Yours is a talent too wonderful to let go.”

 

Her smile widened a bit. “I’m goin’ with Billy Hinton and I don’t think my Pa’d approve my datin’ such an older man. Even if he did save the planet a couple times.”

 

Jim cut into the biscuits, swirled them into the gravy, and groaned when the taste exploded across his tongue. Pausing for a minute to savor the taste, he finally responded to the grievous blow dealt to him, “Passed over for one Billy Hinton who hasn’t even saved the planet once! The Kirk charm has failed me. Man, this was easier when I had a starship I could entice women with.”

 

She only shook her head and rolled her eyes in that uniquely teenage way, popping a hand onto her hip, “You need anything else, Captain Kirk?”

 

Jim had taken another bite and shook his head. But she’d kept her eye on him, popping up every now and then to refill his cup and one, glorious time, to bring him a side of bacon he hadn’t ordered. When he’d questioned her, she’d merely shrugged, “I heard space food sucks. And the bacon’s fresh. Mr. Jackson just brought the pig this morning. Nothin’ beats fresh bacon.”

 

And indeed she was right. Jim inhaled the bacon and in the subsequent food coma, wondered if he had to worry about that paunch after all. He was going to need to devise some kind of exercise routine if he was going to continue to eat like this.

 

He had a whole list of things to do today, mostly involving buying things to make his house more livable, and Jim wondered if he would manage to get through half of them considering the enthusiastic response of his new community. While eating Jim was making a list of things that had to be done today (grocery shopping) and things that could be put off (everything else). Plus, he should probably should find where this Eleanora McCoy lived and return her dish to her, which he’d actually remembered to wash. Of course, he would need to ask someone where she lived, get an address or directions. In fact, Jim decided, a guide in general would be great.

 

 Fortuitously, his waitress popped back up, “Captain, I just wanted to let you know I’m going off shift now. But I’ve asked the girls to keep an eye out on you so if you need anything, just holler at one of ’em and they’ll be right along.”

 

Jim titled his head then shrugged mentally. Maybe her powers of shooing people away extended past the diner. “I have a proposition for you.”

 

Brown eyes widened and then became panicked. Jim didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted. For Christ’s sake, she was sixteen! He sighed and held up his hands, “Hey, I was just going to ask you to be my guide. Show me where the grocery store is, shopping, shipping office, things like that. All joking aside, I tend to like my women a little older.”

 

Hallie was shaking her head while nodding, a bizarre movement that Jim wondered if it made her dizzy. “No, no, I didn’t mean . . . I mean . . . it’s just that . . . you’re you know . . . and I’m you know . . . and—”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh. He waved his credit chip over the machine on the table, entering his code and adding a healthy tip, before getting to his feet and patting the young girl on the shoulder, “I’ve visited many alien worlds and never encountered anything that less resembled actual words than that. Come on. At least show me where the grocery store is. I’ll buy you a coffee or tea or hell, a milkshake or something.”

 

Which is how he had ended up standing outside of the grocery story with a sixteen year old girl lurking next to him, clutching a coffee she seemed determined not to drink, watching him with a small amount of awe that was starting to fade in the face of his wonder. “It’s just a grocery store.”

 

Jim took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “Not when you haven’t seen one in ten years. And look! Look at all the stuff. I mean, Vulcan fruit. You have Vulcan fruit. _Vulcans_ barely have Vulcan fruit!”

 

The teen rolled her eyes, “Just cause it’s Georgia doesn’t mean we’re some backwater, redneck hole. Atlanta’s like fifteen minutes away and its one of the largest cities on the continent. We have stuff. Besides,” she muttered shrugging, “Mrs. Allois is a botanist and has always been partial to those Vulcan orange things. She’s got a whole grove of trees.”

 

Jim merely sighed and made a note to write Spock. Maybe he could get a tree and send one to his and T’Pring’s home on Vulcan. Thanking Hallie and patting her cheek just to watch her blush, Jim bid her goodbye and turned to grab a shopping cart.

 

“Gah!”

 

“Christ!”

 

They were shouted at the same time and the broad chest Jim had turned into sent him staggering back, forcing him to put all of his weight onto his bad leg and feeling it shudder and then collapse under him. Jim swore again, this time a bit more viciously, when he felt his ass hit the ground. Fuck! Wasn’t this just a fantastic start?

 

A hand was shoved in his face, “Well come on, I haven’t got all day.”

 

Jim reached and looked at the same time, eyes widening as he took in the man glaring at him. _Holy hell he was hot!_ Tall, dark hair, angry eyes and man did the anger not _all_ detract from the general hotness, but it was the mouth he centered on. Full and lush, almost pouting lips were a weakness of Jim’s and he couldn’t help but wonder how those would feel on his . . .

 

“Are you hurt? Injured? Or just generally stupid as well clumsy?”

 

Oh yeah, that growl in a Southern accent was working for him as well. Brown eyes rolled and Jim’s hand was grabbed in a wide clasp, and before he could blink he was hauled to his feet. The man expertly looked him over, taking in how Jim was favoring his leg, “You okay?”

 

Jim finally found his voice, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I’m Jim Kirk.”

 

The man snorted, gave his hand a brief shake before finally letting it go, “McCoy. Leonard McCoy.”

 

Leonard McCoy was striding away before Jim could say anything, and Jim was too busy watching the very nice view of him walking away as he did to immediately make the connection. McCoy. Potpie. Eleanora McCoy. Shit. The hot guy was married. Jim briefly considered his rule of no-sex-with-anyone-wearing-a-ring before forcing himself to hold fast. It was a small town. There was no such thing as a clandestine affair in a small town. Particularly for him. Best to keep it in his pants when it came to Leonard McCoy. _Damn_.

 

***

 

Jim was staring at the multitude of cereal option before him wondering if he should choose just one more. He ignored the four boxes already in his hover cart and considered the old fashioned Earth cereals. _Fruity Pebbles_ or _Captain Crunch_? Jim snorted. Like it was even a contest. He grabbed both and tossed them into the basket with the others. He looked down at his booty so far and sighed. Spock would not approve. Six boxes of cereal, apples, and ice cream. Well, at least there was fruit. And ice cream counted as dairy, right?

 

He nearly yelped when a low voice came over his shoulder, “Christ, kid, have you heard of vegetables?”

 

Kirk turned his head ever so slightly and found that mouth dangerously close to him. He lifted his eyes to McCoy’s briefly and they stared at each other for a moment before McCoy took a step to the side, coming abreast of Jim’s cart. Jim swallowed and found his voice, “Kid? I’m thirty-two years old. And you’re what? All of thirty-five, thirty-six?”

 

“Thirty-seven,” he replied shortly. A dark brow arched at him, “Thirty-two years old and you’re eating that crap? It’s all sugar.” McCoy pulled out the box of Fruity Pebbles and snorted. He instead reached for something horrifying that had ‘wheat’ in the title.

 

“Hey!” Jim grabbed his box, defending it by hugging it to his body, “that’s mine. Go get your own.”

 

“Yeah, cause that’s what this is all about. I’m jealous of your box of sugary fluff that will no doubt make you fat in just a few months time.”

 

Jim replaced the box in his cart and huffed, “Look, I’ve been living on a starship for the last ten years. I don’t think a few days indulgence is gonna kill me. Besides, I can’t cook and my replicator will be delivered in a couple of days.”

 

Eyes were rolled and Leonard jerked his head, “Come on.”

 

Jim followed, both out of curiosity and well, just to keep that backside in sight, “Where are we going?”

 

Leonard took him through the store to the back edge of it and Jim’s eyes widened. It was like a restaurant. But better. “This is the pre-prepared food section. You can just pick what you want and then all you have to do is warm it at most. Should be simple enough . . . even for you.”

 

Jim shot him a glare but quickly moved ahead, poking at things. He could feel McCoy’s eyes on him as he read the labels and a sardonic voice came around, “Trying to see if they have a high enough sugar count before you buy them?”

 

“Smartass. No, I’m just allergic to some stuff.” Jim shrugged. “Not a big deal but would prefer to you know, not turn purple on my second day here and before I find a doctor who can fix it.”

 

Jim turned to see the other man shifting uneasily and just as he was about to say something, a small, gray haired woman popped up in front of him, hold a tray in one hand and fluttering with the other one, “Oh, Captain Kirk, oh my goodness, you know, I heard you were in town. It is such an _honor_ to meet you. I just can’t tell you how excited we all were to hear you were movin’ to _Madison_ of all places in the galaxy. I mean, we’re just a small, little town and to imagine someone like you comin’ somewhere like here . . . well, there just are no words! In fact, I was just telling Arlene Paxton that it just went to show how down to earth you really must be, so to speak. I mean, you coulda just retired anywhere in the whole galaxy and you . . .”

 

Jim latched onto that flailing hand as it waved too close to his face and gave her a smile reserved for his more enthusiastic introductions, shamelessly interrupting her monologue, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms?”

 

“Oh my goodness,” the woman trilled, flushing, “I am so sorry! Where are my manners? I’m Trudy McAllister. My husband and I own this store, and I do the cookin’ for this section here. Oh, Heavens, look at me forgettin’ that I brought you a sample of our famous barbeque pulled pork. Here ya go!”

 

And just as Jim was about to politely decline, she shoved a small piece of bread loaded with pork into his mouth and all that escaped was a muffled, “Huhhm.”

 

He could hear the low laughter of McCoy in the background, that bastard, as he began to chew. Oh, it was good. It was _really_ good. It was . . . making his tongue swell.

 

The reaction at that point was instantaneous. His eyes watered and he felt his lungs seize, the air pathways closing immediately. Suddenly he was on the ground and he was trying to get his hand into his jeans, where he’d learned to keep an epipen.

 

Suddenly a strong hand was pulling his eyelids open and a voice was yelling, “Can you hear me?”

 

“P . . . pen . . . pock . . . pocket,” was all Jim managed to gasp out before he felt hands running over his body and then shoving into his right pocket. Jim briefly managed to regret he wasn’t more aware to really enjoy that. A scant second later he felt a ping of the needle stabbing into his thigh and the immediate relief of adrenaline rushing through his body, reopening airways, and pushing his heart into a normal rhythm.

 

Gradually, the rushing faded from his ears and he could hear McCoy softly whispering, “Easy, take easy, regular breaths. That’s it. Slow, steady breaths.”

 

Jim kept his gaze on the concerned, dark eyes above him and forced his breathing from the instinctive gasping to the rhythm McCoy was rubbing onto his chest. Their eyes stayed locked together and McCoy kept his hand on Jim’s chest as his breathing evened out. Jim was unaware of everything around him, the gathered crowd, the fairly hysterical woman flapping around. He felt . . . locked into that gaze, everything fading beneath the weight of the hand on his chest and . . . yes, his hand was still on Jim’s thigh.

 

A sudden shiver of awareness ran through him at that and the hand was removed, coming up to place two fingers against Jim’s throat to take his pulse. His touch seemed confident, knowing. And it was at the moment that Jim’s hearing fully came back and he heard the Trudy McAllister panicking, “Oh, Dr. McCoy, oh my goodness, is he okay, Doctor? Do you need anything? Oh my goodness, oh my goodness gracious!”

 

 A hesitant smile touched Jim’s mouth and an embarrassed flush began working its way up into his cheeks as he became aware of the cluster of people standing around him. He began shifting uneasily and the hand on his chest pushed him into stillness, “Hold on, now. Let me . . . ah, okay, your pulse is returning to normal, breath evening out. Seems the pen did the trick.”

 

Jim laughed weakly, still shuddering a bit from the rush of adrenaline, and sat up with McCoy supporting his back, “That your professional opinion, _Doctor_?”

 

“Yes, _Captain_ , it is indeed. Now, you wanna tell me what the hell caused that?”

 

Jim shrugged and started to pull his legs underneath him to get to his feet when he felt McCoy haul him up again. Christ, twice in a half hour. But he couldn’t help but be impressed by the easy strength in those hands and shoulders. Granted the doctor had a few inches on Jim, but Jim was packed tight with muscle and certainly heavier than would be expected. But apparently not for McCoy who kept hauling him around. And no, it absolutely was _not_ something to get aroused about.

 

Jim steadied himself for a moment before looking toward Mrs. McAllister apologetically, “Sorry, I have a couple of food allergies. They . . . they can take me by surprise sometimes.”

 

Apologies came stumbling out of her mouth endlessly and rapidly and it was actually McCoy that cut her off this time, “You need to get home and probably shouldn’t be driving with all that adrenaline racing through your system. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

 

“But my food . . .” Jim protested.

 

Leonard rolled his eyes, “I’ll grab yours when I come back for mine.”

 

And before Jim could protest, he was being dragged past the crowd and out of the store. Jim dug out his keys to his hovercar, “Really, I can drive. I’ve captained in worse shape than this.”

 

“Well, you’re not on a starship surrounded by empty space are you? You’re in rural Georgia where the likelihood of you crashing into a tree is significantly higher.”

 

Jim sighed,  “Well, let’s at least take my hovercar. I’ll even let you keep her for the rest of the day as a thank you. She’s brand new and beautiful.”

 

A now familiar snort came his way, “No thanks, I’ll keep my bones intact. I’ve got a car over here.”

 

Intrigued, Jim moved forward, “Like an automobile?”

 

When they came to the car Jim could only gape in shock. Tentatively, he traced a finger along the body of the beauty before him, reverence in every moment, “This is . . . is this really a classic Pontiac GTO?”

 

When Leonard nodded smugly, Jim breathed out softly, “I’ve only ever seen these in pictures. Original design?”

 

Leonard unlocked the car and gestured for Jim to get in, “Yeah. Obviously everything had to be completely rebuilt, but the bodywork design is the original. Belonged to my daddy, and his before him and his before him, and you get the point.”

 

Jim slid into the car and wondered if he would be judged if he hugged the dashboard. A display had been put in to monitor the engine systems, but otherwise is retained all of the original dials, even if they didn’t work anymore.

 

McCoy started the car and the rumbling purr nearly aroused Jim in its perfection. He ran a hand lovingly over the leather seats, “How do you leave it? I would eat, sleep, and _breathe_ in this car.”

 

Leonard shot him a grin and Jim’s breath caught for a whole other reason. Clenching his hands on his knees to keep them from wandering over, Jim tuned into Leonard in time to hear, “ . . . wife doesn’t like it much, but I won’t give it up.”

 

At the mention of _wife_ Jim turned to him. “Hey, that wouldn’t happen to be Eleanora McCoy, would it? Cause I’ve got a pan that belongs to you, I think.”

 

Leonard shook his head, “Got yourself a potpie, did ya? No, Jocelyn McCoy is my wife. Eleanora is my mama. Our land abuts yours and she wanted to give you a welcome.”

 

Jim grinned, “And what a welcome it was. Seriously. It was awesome!”

 

A small smile played at McCoy’s lips and Jim sighed. Oh, this was just trouble of his favorite kind.

 

***

 

McCoy had gotten Jim settled in fairly quickly, still managing to scold him for multiple things despite the relatively short amount of time spent there. Jim had been grilled about his leg when McCoy had noticed his limping, scolded for not keeping up with his physical therapy, referred to a center in Atlanta, been admonished for the lack of furniture in the house, and practically be yelled at when McCoy discovered the complete lack of food in the house. “Your bones are healing, dammit! They need nutrients! Proper nutrients, not just that shit cereal you picked out. Christ, how did you survive in space?”

 

He’d demanded a list of Jim’s allergies and returned from the grocery store carrying none of the items Jim had picked out, besides the apples. Instead, Jim now had real food. Milk, cheese, plain yogurt for breakfast, honey instead of sugar, some pre-prepared chicken and vegetable stir fry, some vegetable curry with rice, eggs, and items to make sandwiches. Noting too strenuous cooking wise. Jim had merely looked at him causing the man to shrug uncomfortably, “Should last you until Monday. And I’m sure some of the ladies will be dropping by with casseroles. I told Ms. McAllister to have them list _all_ the ingredients so you know whether you can eat them.”

 

Blue eyes studied him intently, “Why are you doing all this? I mean, I’m grateful but I would have been fine after the epipen.”

 

Another uncomfortable movement of shoulders, “I’m a doctor. Took an oath to not let morons kill themselves with barbeque pulled pork.”

 

Jim narrowed his eyes for a minute before offering a lopsided smile and an obvious leering tone to his voice, “You wanna be my doctor, McCoy?”

 

And watched entranced when a blush tinted gruff cheeks. McCoy huffed, “Keep it in your pants, kid. This is just how things work down here. We help our neighbors out. Now, get some sleep. You look like hell.”

 

***

 

 

Leo nearly groaned when he heard an all too familiar voice at his mother’s door the next afternoon, “Hello, ma’am. My name’s Jim Kirk and I’m here to offer you my hand in marriage.”

 

 _Oh Christ._

 

Leonard actually winced when he heard his mother giggle, _giggle_ or Christ’s sake, and invite the man in. Jocelyn shot him a confused look and he sighed. She’d gotten back late from her office the previous evening and he hadn’t yet told her about his run in with the famous captain.

 

A moment later the captain was ushered into the room, Eleanora on his arm and laughing up at him. She turned to them and graciously made introductions, “Captain Kirk, this is my son and daughter-in-law, Leonard and Jocelyn McCoy.”

 

Jim shot him a smile before taking Jocelyn’s proffered hand and turned it, brushing a kiss against the back of it, “I see beauty is present everywhere in this family.”

 

Jocelyn smiled knowingly but still blushed. Leo had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes again. One ridiculous line had his wife blushing? Kirk sat and turned to Eleanora, “I apologize that I didn’t call but I was headed back from town and wanted to return your dish to you. Also, I was told that you breed some of the finest horseflesh in the state. While my stables aren’t ready to house a horse quite yet, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I took a look.”

 

Eleanora smiled once more and patted the Captain’s arm, “Well, we certainly have some good horses for you to take a look at, Captain. Our family prides itself on keeping only prime horseflesh around. But why don’t you join us for lunch and then Leonard can show you around.”

 

Leo groaned inwardly. The previous evening he’d decided to keep his distance from the infamous Starfleet captain. He’d have to be a blind man to miss the looks Jim sent his way and it was better all around to avoid any awkwardness. Besides the fact that he was pretty sure that Jim Kirk was a major pain in the ass. He’d known the man less than five minutes before Leonard was jabbing him with epipens, taking him home, and grocery shopping for him. He’d always brought home strays but didn’t think Jocelyn would appreciate this particular one. Not that he was interested in bringing Jim Kirk home.

 

Cursing himself, Leonard stood and followed his wife and mother, who had surrounded Jim into the dining room. Leo moved to the kitchen and pulled the chicken out from the oven, along with the greens, potato salad and coleslaw from the refrigerator. He’d already put the sweet tea and water pitchers out and Jocelyn had set the table.

 

Leo took out the cold items first, setting them on the table and avoiding that too bright gaze. When he came back out the final time, setting everything down and taking his own seat, he watched curiously as the captain bowed his head while Eleanora murmured a soft grace. Part of the way through Jim had looked up and caught him staring, offering him a quirk of his lips.

 

Quickly shifting his gaze, Leo muttered the appropriate response to the end of grace and motioned at the table, “Dig in.”

 

Jim gave Eleanora another devastating smile, “If this is half as good as your potpie, you may have to hold me back.”

 

The graceful woman laughed and sat back, “I should make a confession, Captain. I can’t cook worth a lick. It’s Leo who’s the chef of the family. You may want to retract that offer of marriage.”

 

Jim just grinned, “Who said I was only offering for the food? And please, call me Jim.”

 

Eleanora rolled her eyes in a manner reminiscent of her son, “Oh you! Now stop your flirting and get to eating.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jim said with a small wink. Leo came under that smiling gaze as the man nodded toward the food, “Anything I should be wary of?”

 

Leo shook his head and at Jocelyn’s inquiring look sighed, “I ran into Kirk here at Trudy’s yesterday and he . . .”

 

“Had a small reaction to the pulled pork. Not a big deal,” Jim interrupted smoothly.

 

“Oh yeah, anaphylaxis shock is a walk in the park. Blood vessels flooding opening, airways closing, possible cardiac arrest, not a big deal at all.”

 

Both women gasped and turned to Jim, who only sighed and proceeded to relate the story in an entirely too humorous manner for Leo’s tastes. When Jim shot him a look Leo only shrugged. He hadn’t invited the man over, nor did he sign up to be the ass’s personal caretaker. 

 

By the time Jim was done with the story both women were laughing and Jocelyn gently tapped his arm in reproach, “You didn’t tell me you met Jim yesterday.”

 

Another shrug. _Jim_. Christ. “You got home late and I didn’t really think about it this morning.”

 

A hand clutched what Leo knew to be a firm chest dramatically, “Forgotten about already? I’m hurt, McCoy. Hurt.”

 

“From what I’ve seen, your ego can withstand the blow,” Leo drawled, mouth quirking when he saw amusement flare in blue eyes.

 

Eleanora waved a hand in Leo’s direction, “Forgive my son. He takes after his father in sheer sarcasm. Something rather hereditary in the McCoy men, I’m afraid.”

 

Jim only took a bite of the potato salad and gave a small groan. He shot a mischievous look at Leo and turned to Eleanora, “He makes up for it in other areas.” Leo sucked in his breath in annoyance before Jim continued, “At least what I can tell from this potato salad.”

 

The rest of lunch passed by in the same playful manner, Leo slowly relaxing as Jim flirted just as easily and often with Jocelyn and his mother. And if Leo had thought there was something . . . else . . . in Jim Kirk’s eyes when he looked in Leo’s direction, clearly he was just imagining things. After all, the man was as known for his romantic conquests as he was his military ones, and Leo had already heard more women of his acquaintance speculating on Kirk than he cared to. Kirk wouldn’t be lacking any potential bed partners anytime soon.

 

Leo couldn’t help but notice the liveliness of the table with Jim Kirk present. Saturday lunches with his mother were always friendly and comfortable, but he couldn’t remember the last time there had been this much laughter. Jocelyn and his mother, two of the savviest women he knew, were completely charmed and completely engaged in the stories Jim was telling of his travels. While they seemed entertaining enough, Leo had his doubts to the ‘fun’ of living in space. In fact, he fairly shuddered at the thought. No thanks. Besides, he’d bet however the captain had hurt his leg, it hadn’t been a _fun_ experience.

 

Once lunch was over, Eleanora shooed both men out to the stables while she and Jocelyn washed up. The walk over was made mostly in silence until Jim clapped him on the shoulder, “I wanted to thank you for everything you did yesterday. The groceries and you know, not letting me die.”

 

Leo snorted at that, “Well, I did take an oath.”

 

Jim’s smile just broadened, “That’s what I like about you, McCoy. No bullshit.”

 

A dark brow arched, “That why you sent a request to the hospital asking to be listed as a patient?”

 

Shoulders hunched a bit, “Saw that already did you?”

 

“I’m a neural surgeon, Jim,” Leo said seriously. “Not a general practitioner.”

 

Another shrug, “I know, but I would need a surgeon to consult on my leg anyway. I had nerve regeneration on it and in a few weeks I’m due for another round.”

 

Leo refrained from pointing out that a receptionist could make an appointment for that and he probably would only need an orthopedic surgeon to consult with a general m.d. Leo resigned himself to having Jim Kirk as a patient. Besides, if his mama found out that he had turned him away she’d skin him alive. The McCoy men, surgeons or not, had always doctored most of the people in Madison in their spare time. Anyone in town was liable to send him a wave regarding everything from a rash to uncomfortable questions about birth control. He knew entirely too much about the people in his town.

 

Still, the file he’d managed to get a hold of had far too many things blacked out for Leo’s satisfaction. He wouldn’t work with partial knowledge. “You’ll have to get me a complete medical file.”

 

Something wary moved in Kirk’s eyes as they entered the stables, “A lot of that stuff is classified and you’re not Starfleet.”

 

Leonard simply shrugged, “Then get a Starfleet doctor. But I don’t work with incomplete medical histories. It’s askin’ for trouble I don’t need. So, either you get me a complete medical file or you get yourself another doctor. I can get you a list.”

 

Jim merely studied him for a moment and Leonard resisted the urge to shift. Resisted the urge to think the blond man was seeing more than his scruffy chin and green sweater. Finally that easy smile returned, “Why don’t you show me the horses? I’m looking for something with spirit. I like ’em a little ornery and a bit stubborn.”

 

Leo swallowed hard at that and the return of the peculiar glint in those blue eyes. It would be easy to simply roll his eyes and laugh if his stomach weren’t lodged his throat. Instead he gave a short, jerky nod and watched as a slow smile bloomed across Kirk’s face. He turned and walked into the stable, and Leo couldn’t help but drop his gaze to the denim-clad ass sauntering into his stables like he owned them. He was forced to swallow again. Yeah, Jim Kirk was definitely gonna be a pain in the ass. 


	3. There was Kevin Riley

 

 

Beaming down at his plate of steak and eggs, Jim nearly rubbed his hands together with glee and Eleanora shook her head, “Leo would have a heart attack if he saw you eating that.”

 

Jim shrugged and reached for his knife and fork, “Nah, he’d just lecture me about how it would give _me_ a heart attack and he wasn’t gonna be responsible for fixing it.”

 

Eleanora smiled at that bit of truth and tried not to sigh at her very sensible bowl of fruit with a side of yogurt and granola. It was usually her favorite breakfast but she couldn’t deny the smell wafting from Jim’s plate was . . . enticing.

 

Shooting it a longing look and wondering when it would be safe for her to steal a bite, Eleanora took a dainty bite of her yogurt, “Have you seen that son of mine recently? He keeps slippin’ past me. I swear that boy has become slicker than spit on a glass doorknob.”

 

Jim’s eyes had fluttered shut while he savored his first bite of protein overload and it wasn’t until he had finished savoring that he looked again at the elegant woman sitting across from him, “Nope. Still avoiding me.”

 

Eleanora took the moment to steal a bit of steak and only smiled serenely in the face of the pout forming, “You shouldn’t tease him so. You’re just too pretty for your own good. And Leo’s a mite sensitive about casual flirting.”

 

Eyebrows raised, “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

 

“Oh, really, I shouldn’t be the one to tell you,” Eleanora protested softly.

 

Jim only eyed her narrowly before pushing his plate forward and sighing. In the two months he’d been in Madison, he’d gotten to know his neighbor pretty well. In fact, she was basically his closest friend in town. She’d introduced him around, protected him from being bombarded, and had generally worked things around to where both Jim and the town were finally comfortable enough with each other. Jim knew better than to underestimate her.

 

Eleanora only smiled and took another piece, murmuring, “Aren’t you sweet? Now, it was about, oh, thirteen years ago I guess. It was the summer that Nan Orchesky was arrested by Sherriff Dodd, on account of her being discovered in the town fountain naked as a jaybird, the morning after the 4th of July festival. This’ll be your first year but everyone, including Nan, will tell you to watch out for May’s special lemonade, there being rather more ‘special’ than ‘lemonade’.”

 

Jim only grinned and settled back, taking over Eleanora’s bowl of fruit. He had learned that Southern story telling had its own rhythm to it and one shouldn’t interrupt unduly. Eleanora continued after stealing another bite of Jim’s plate, “Leo and Jocelyn had only been married ’bout three years and were living in this tiny, little place in Atlanta, right across from the hospital. Leo’s always been proud and considering he was working under his daddy at Atlanta General, insisted that he and Jocelyn also not be living off his father,” Eleanora rolled her eyes to show was she thought of this but there was a glint of pride to her smile.

 

“Jocelyn actually fixed it up quite nice and Lord knows that girl’s got the patience of a saint amongst sinners. She’s got her own family money, you know, her family having deep ties to the bourbon trade, Kentucky being relatively untouched during the Eugenic Wars. Her grandfather moved them from Kentucky to Georgia, but kept the business, so her family’s always been well taken care of. This all to say that even if Leo didn’t want to use his daddy’s money, Jocelyn had more than enough of her own for the both of them,” Eleanora shrugged. “But she’s never been able to overcome Leo’s stubbornness when he digs his heels in and since she had just transferred to Emory to finish up her last year, she was rather too busy to bother making a fuss.

 

“They were both rather busy. Leo was in the final year of his residency and getting all kinds of offers from hospitals around the planet, not to mention some off-world offers. But Jocelyn’s always been a Georgia girl born and bred, never wanted to even travel much. You’d sooner find a hen’s teeth than Jocelyn McCoy outside Georgia.

 

“When we found out that David, Leo’s daddy, was terminally ill, it was a lot of strain on their marriage. Leo was at the hospital twenty-four-seven, and when he gets worried he just shuts right down. But there was nothing anyone could do and David passed away in April that year.”

 

Hazel eyes turned chocolate with grief and Jim reached across to clasp her hand. “It was a hard time, for everyone. Leonard and his daddy were real close, Leo hero-worshipped that man and there was no telling David that the sun didn’t raise and fall with Leonard. Leo . . . well, I think it was harder for Leo than me. But it put a strain on their marriage, Leo pushing Jocelyn further and further away and Jocelyn not pushing back. It’s just not Jocelyn’s way. She doesn’t fight and sometimes . . . sometimes Leo needs someone to just push past all of his bull.” Eleanora shrugged. “Always has. Either way, it wasn’t looking good for them that summer. Leo pulled further away and Henry, Leo’s first boyfriend, started coming around again, flirting and teasing Leo, talking to him about Starfleet, which Henry was leaving to enroll in.

 

“I don’t think Jocelyn ever knew how close she came to finding herself in the midst of a divorce at twenty-one. I found a recruiting card for Starfleet in Leo’s car one day.” Now hazel eyes were imploring for Jim to understand, “I shouldn’t have interfered, regardless of Henry. Leo’s a gifted doctor, a surgeon and a pathologist. He’s saved so many lives, caused so many breakthroughs in medicine. Sometimes I wonder how many lives he could have saved if I hadn’t interfered, how many worlds he could’ve changed. And on those days, I’m ashamed of what I did.

 

“But interfere I did. I sat him down and talked him into moving them back to Madison, of building a home together, taking over his father’s position as head of neurosurgery. I told Leo and myself it was that best thing for he and Jocelyn, and it was. But I needed him, too. I . . . we have a lot of family. The McCoy’s are typically long lived and there’s a lot of kin around these parts. But I had just lost David and the thought of losing Leo . . . well, I interfered and Leo stayed.”

 

Her shoulders straightened and she met Jim’s gaze evenly, “Henry died in the Battle of Vulcan as a cadet serving on the Farragut. I cried that day, both for Henry who I’d known since he was a boy and in relief that he didn’t take mine with him.”

 

Eleanora’s eyes were glossy but steady and after a moment of silence she picked up her fork as took another bite of steak. Jim sat in silence, knowing she wasn’t quite done yet. She took a sip of coffee and gave Jim a gentle smile, “You’re a good man, an honorable one. Even if you hadn’t done all those things, you would be a good man. And you shine so brightly. But I think sometimes Leo looks at you and sees a life that could have been. Sees a boy he once knew, a path he almost took, and he’s just not comfortable with that thought. He loves Jocelyn, deep and wide because Leo doesn’t love by half. But you just scare him half to death, Jim.”

 

Swallowing uncomfortably, Jim picked at the food, no longer hungry. He had known his flirting with the gruff doctor was more than the flirting he usually did. And it wasn’t just that the man was gorgeous and sexy in a way Jim had never encountered before. It was just something about him. But Jim had done his best to keep it light and hadn’t expected anyone to see that he was genuinely interested in the doctor. The doctor who was married.

 

Finally, he raised his eyes again to Eleanora’s kind ones, “I hope you know that I would never intentional seek to damage his marri. . .”

 

Half way through Eleanora laughed, a soft understanding noise, “Oh Jimmy honey, I know that! That’s just not the kind of man you are. Even Leo knows that.  He’s just . . . putting himself out of Lucifer’s reach is all. Now, don’t you worry about that. I just wanted you to know that it’s not necessarily _you_ Leo’s avoidin. And to get you thinkin’ about some things.”

 

Jim eyed her warily, “Which is?”

 

Eleanora waved Hallie over with a smile and paid for breakfast before Jim could object. When Hallie had popped away again, Eleanora shot him a smile, “Leo always been too smart for his own good. And while he’s got a lot of people in his life who love him, he’s never made friends easily. And I suspect the same is true for you. I know you have your crew, but they aren’t here and the amount of time you spend alone isn’t healthy. I think you and Leo’d make fine friends. If you’d just pull your heads out of your pants long enough to take a look around.”

 

Jim flushed at that, which only deepened when Eleanora laughed again. She reached across and patted his cheek, “Now, come on. Gaila sent me some pictures of a couch in Atlanta I think would be perfect for that library of yours. Then you can buy me lunch and tell me if you’ve figured out a way to make yourself useful again.”

 

***

 

Four exhausting hours later, Jim was allowed to return to his quiet house. Gaila, who being stationed at Starfleet Headquarters, could and did visit frequently, had formed an unholy decorating alliance with Eleanora McCoy.

 

The first time Gaila had come in early February, Jim had been excited, relieved, and nervous. It was a small town and Federation relations with the Orion Syndicate had been steadily decreasing over the years, tensions sharply spiking in the last couple. And while Gaila, as head of the computer science department in Starfleet, as well as the only Orion they had, had higher security clearance than Jim ever had, Jim had been nervous about her reception in Madison. It would be awkward if he had to beat the shit out of one of his neighbors.

 

She had been horrified by the lack of furniture and when Jim had shown her what existed in basement, she had only shaken her head. And hour later, and he still wasn’t quite sure how it had happen, men from a charity organization were gathering up everything in the basement Gaila deemed unsuitable (which was nearly everything except for some side tables, a coffee table, and two dressers). She had then dragged Jim into Atlanta to do ‘some shopping’. Six hours later, after having surrendered to his fate, Jim was equipped with a new bedroom set, a new bed for the guest bedroom, and a sofa and oversized armchair for the living room. It had only been the beginning.

 

His second mistake (the first being letting Gaila into the house), had been introducing her to Eleanora McCoy. They had taken an immediate shine to each other and Gaila had launched into telling her all about the ‘horrid state my Jimmy is living in’ and Jim had just exchanged looks with Leo, who for once had sympathy in his eyes, which only increased when Jocelyn starting offering her opinion.

 

At one point Eleanora just smiled at him, “Why don’t you and Leonard go for a ride and let us girls handle the real work?”

 

Glad for an opportunity to escape, both men had jumped to their feet and proceeded to do just that. Jim had chosen Boadicea, a hybrid mare of Arabian and Appaloosa origins, he was nearly positive he was going to buy as soon as his stables were finished being repaired. He was already wildly in love with her. Had been from their first introduction, when she had nipped his shoulder and then after judging him for a moment, huffed against his hands, searching for apples or carrots.

 

Leo was on his favorite, Max, a beautiful Friesian who was quiet and steady. Much like his rider. They rode in silence for the first while until Leo suddenly spoke, “I’ve given your name to Janice Rand. She’ll be contacting you soon.”

 

Jim had shot him a grin, “Thanks, McCoy, but I really don’t need a wingman. I do just fine on my own.”

 

Leo rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I noticed from the Orion mooning over you and your sad little house. No, Rand is one of the best physical therapists in the state. She specializes in cases with significant nerve damage, which would be you. And seeing as you haven’t been going into Atlanta to your sessions, I’ve talked her into coming out to you.”

 

Jim shot him a scowl, “My leg’s fine.”

 

“Don’t be an infant. Saying it’s fine doesn’t actually make it fine. It’s recovering and under rather shoddy care, I might add. You still walk with a limp and don’t think I didn’t notice your hesitation in mounting Bo here.”

 

“Don’t call her ‘Bo’,” Jim patted his horse gently, as if to soothe her from the insult. “And I don’t need a physical therapist.”

 

Leo had only rolled his eyes again, “Look, she’s coming on Tuesday at 1300 so you can fight it out with her then. I wouldn’t count on winning, but go ahead and try.”

 

 

 

Jim had tried and failed. Which had caused him to corner Leo at his hospital, drag him to lunch, and proceed to complain while Leo argued and laughed alternately. Finally he had thrown up his hands, “I’m not getting involved! Rand is your problem now. Besides, I saw the bone scans she took. You need the help.”

 

Blue eyes sparkled, “You worried about my bones? You know, in the time I’ve known you, you’ve been awfully fixated on the state of my bones. There a reason for that, Doctor?”

 

“As you just pointed out, I’m a doctor,” Leo had grumbled, taking a bite of his salad and avoiding Jim’s flirtatious smile.

 

“Maybe you should have become a bone doctor instead of a neurologist. Then your day could have been filled with bones. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever been able to look at you without thinking about my bones. So, I therefore hereby christen thee as ‘Bones’ so that I’ll never forget to keep my bones in working order just for you.”

 

Jim only grinned as Leo lifted a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose and growled, “I swear you have the emotional maturity of a thirteen year old. Why the hell did Starfleet ever give you command?”

 

“ ’Cause I saved the planet and probably the known universe. Remember? Nero? Vulcan destroyed? Big drill being lowered into Earth? Well, the Enterprise and I kicked Nero’s ass. Starfleet could no longer deny my awesomeness at that point, Bones. Anyway, I have to go. Your mother has instructed me that she has found the perfect dining room table, and even though I have never, and probably will never, use the dining room, I find I just can’t say no to that woman.”

 

Jim paid for lunch before Leo could object and found himself on the end of a squinty eyed gaze, “What exactly are you doing with my mother, Kirk? You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

 

Laughter exploded out Jim, “God, that’s classic. Is this where I tell you my intentions regarding your _mother_? Well, in that case, let me just say, I will do anything she’ll let me. I’ve proposed to the woman three times and been brutally rejected each time. Granted, the last one was to get her to leave me alone about paint samples but still. She’s a beautiful woman, Bones. She’s got these big hazel eyes I just can’t get enough of. Reminds me of someone.”

 

And with a wink, Jim left Leo flushed at the table.

 

***

 

Jim nearly smiled at that memory. It had been about a month since Bones had actively been avoiding Jim (only seeing him when medical attention was necessary), a week since his breakfast with Eleanora. Since that breakfast, Jim had harangued him into going for a ride but Bones was careful about keeping their conversation neutral and not responding to Jim’s flirting. But their conversation had been friendly and easy and had felt somehow right.

 

Most recently, Jim had been dodging calls from Pike, who, he was sure, would lure Jim back from his life of book reading leisure if given half a chance. And Jim wasn’t entirely sure he would say no. On one hand, he was happy in Madison. He loved his little town, loved stopping in for breakfast in the morning and catching up on news. Just this morning he had learned that little Alison DuBois had been chosen for the state wide science fair, the Jones boy had stepped out on the Mason girl and she was raising hell about it, and that Trudy McAllister had near _brawl_ with Maeve McClarren over the proper seasoning of rice and beans. It was awesome.

 

On the other hand, he had developed a host of hobbies that were slowly killing him in an effort to stave off boredom. He had decided to take up carpentry. After all, Jesus had managed right?

 

He’d decided to go easy and start by refinishing his floors. He’d called Bones three hours later after getting tangled up in the cord, tripping, and breaking three fingers and spraining his elbow. Then he’d decided to build some shelves for his room but had gotten distracted by his PADD ringing with a call from Pike and nearly sliced off his finger. Another call to Bones had been made.

 

Finally, it was his mother who had been highly entertained by the stories so far, that intervened when Jim started endangering actual limbs. She’d sent him a crate of his Grandpa Tiberius’s woodworking materials. Tiberius, in addition to being a badass Starfleet captain, had been an expert whittler and when Jim and Sam would go stay with their grandparents when Winona was off planet (after she had divorced that bastard Frank), Grandpa Tiberius would sit with them out on the porch and whittle while he and Sam would play chess.

 

And when Jim was fifteen, broken and quiet, too thin and too fragile, Winona had moved Tiberius right in, hoping the grandfather Jim had adored would be the one to get Jim to finally talk. Instead, Tiberius had handed Jim a knife and a block of wood and taught him how to whittle. Slowly, Jim had carved out his nightmares and spoken quietly of them with Tiberius, letting the Iowa wind carry the words away.

 

Jim had carved out his nightmares for a year and a half before he was able to carve anything more than a rough sketch of Kodos’ face, of brittle bodies, and once, horrifyingly, he’d carved a relief of the killing fields. When the stories had poured out him, when he was finally empty, Tiberius had taken Jim to the back of the house and they’d burned the carvings. It hadn’t been magical. Jim hadn’t been immediately healed. But for the first time since Tarsus, he slept without nightmares.

 

Today, it seemed, was a day for remembrances.

 

Jim made his way out onto his porch—now refinished, fixed and painted with comfortable furniture thanks to Gaila and Eleanora—picked up a block of wood and his knife, and settled into a chair near the railing, and propped up his feet. A storm was coming.

 

***

 

Four drinks, two hours, and failed attempt at a miniature Enterprise later – Jim’s skills were sadly rusty – Jim saw headlights turn onto his road and watched as they made their way closer to the house. Jim watched through the downpour of rain as Bones parked as close to the house as was possible. And it was definitely Bones despite the poor visibility. Jim would know the headlights of that car anywhere.

 

Jim watched Bones jump out and jog up the steps of the porch. Not that it mattered. He was soaked as soon as he got out of the car.

 

“Hey,” was all Bones muttered before going inside, no doubt to grab himself a drink.

 

In the interim, Jim considered just how dangerous to his self-control a wet Leonard McCoy was. This being Sunday and a day Bones always took off from work, he was dressed in jeans and a light, hunter green sweater that always made his hazel eyes match. Of course, now that he was soaked, jean clung to powerful thighs and a well-defined package Jim was better off not thinking about. Just like he was better off not thinking about how the sweater was plastered to defined pecs, broad shoulders, and surprisingly muscled arms. It seems surgery was not all the good doctor did.

 

Bones came back out with a towel around his neck, his hair delightfully mussed, and a glass of whisky in his hand. He dragged another chair so that he was sitting next to Jim, placed the towel on the seat before sitting, and plopped his feet up onto the railing next to Jim’s. They sat in silence for awhile, watching the storm, Jim aware of the tension slowly leaching out of Bones’ frame. Must have been a bad day at the hospital.

 

When he saw that both of their glasses were empty, he reached over the side of his chair and pulled up a bottle of whisky and began pouring them both another drink. Bones just raised his brow, “We celebrating?”

 

Jim was silent for a moment before raising his glass, “To the birthday of one Kevin Riley.”

 

Bones tapped his glass to Jim’s, widened his eyes over the superior quality of the whisky, and muttered, “Must be one hell of guy to get the good stuff out.”

 

Quiet pleasantly drunk in that warm, hazy drunkenness that only comes after taking one’s time, Jim just nodded and agreed, “Indeed, Bones, indeed.”

 

Jim was sure that the other man rolled his eyes at the nickname but didn’t say anything. He’d submitted to the nickname with relative (for Bones) grace and didn’t object unless Jim tried to get others to use it. “Bad day at the hospital?”

 

The older man exhaled a breath and leaned his head back against the chair, “Lost a little girl on the table today. Kelly-Anne, five years old. Car accident. All this damn rain. I knew she wasn’t going to make it when I opened her up. She was too far gone when she came in. But . . .”

 

The darkness hid Jim’s knowing nod. Yeah, he knew that weight of responsibility and guilt all too well. Had felt it every time one of his crew died. So he didn’t offer any words, knowing there were none. Instead, he poured more Woodford Reserve into Bones’ glass. After another easy silence, Bones asked, “So, who’s Kevin Riley and where is the birthday boy?”

 

Jim gestured towards the sky, “In space of course.”

 

Leonard nodded, “Ah, of course, space.”

 

Amiably shrugging, Jim agreed, “Of course. Kevin couldn’t be anywhere but space. Bad things happen to ’im on the ground.”

 

Bones turned to regard Jim with some amusement, “That so? Usually it’s the other way around. So, tell me the story of Kevin Riley and why he has to be in space.”

 

Blue eyes went from foggy to strangely intent, “You sure, Bones? It’s not a nice story. Most people don’t want to hear it.”

 

Jim watched as Bones nodded. He shrugged, “All right then.”

 

***

 

Leo watched as Jim poured a bit more whisky into his glass, preparing for the tale. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft, “Kevin Riley was seven the first time he left Earth. There was a new colony starting and the Riley family thought it would be a good opportunity. They were farmers but only had a small plot of land outside of Cork, Ireland. It wasn’t really enough to do much with and the governor of the colony was offering large tracts of land to families who wanted to make the move. So they figured why not.

 

“So, Kevin, his parents and two older sisters made the move a year after the colony opened. When they got there, everything was great. There was plenty to do and lots of kids around, though Kevin didn’t make friends easily. The governor was real adamant about families and the importance of children being the future.  He was even hosting a group of gifted children that summer at the governor’s palace, where there would be classes and seminars on everything from art to warp theory.

 

“Now Kevin was a gifted kid though no one really knew that yet. But he was adorable with his red hair, freckles, and bright green eyes and so the guards would look the other way when, after hitching into town, he’d sneak in to some of seminars. It was there he met another kid. Now this kid was fourteen, arrogant, and so didn’t have much time for a little kid hanging off him. But Kevin wouldn’t give up. He wanted to be friends.”

 

Leo, who wasn’t nearly as intoxicated as Jim, felt his stomach tightening as the story progressed. You knew this wasn’t going to end well. And something about the colony seemed . . .

 

Jim continued, “It was great for a couple of months. Then the whispers started – whispers of failed crops, whispers of rotting food, whispers of famine. Autumn harvest was approaching and the rumors said there’d be nothing to harvest. That it was all either dead or dying.

 

“The kids at the palace weren’t concerned. At first. They had plenty of food and the governor had personally assured them that the rumors were exaggerated and didn’t pose a real danger. But one day the kids were denied access to the communications lab and the governor told them a virus had swept into the systems but should be fixed shortly. And even if the kids felt a little uneasy about this, they accepted it.

 

“Except, you see, there was Kevin Riley and his family were farmers. So Kevin _knew_ the rumors were true, had watched with his family as their fields turned brown, knew the neighboring fields of neighboring fields were dead. Knew famine was coming. And they had done the responsible thing. They had contacted the governor’s office to report that the fungus was spreading quickly.”

 

Jim took a drink and Leo forced himself still. He recognized, like everyone else in the Federation knew this story. Or knew a version of the story. He’d never heard anything like Jim’s. And though he hadn’t explicitly said it, there was the fourteen year old mentioned.

 

“It was only a week later that the governor’s security forces came for Kevin and his family. Those outside of town, the farmers with the knowledge of the veracity of the rumors, were the first killed.” Jim’s laugh was bitter, hollow, “They didn’t even use the cover of night. Came in the morning. But in the panic, they missed young Kevin Riley, hidden in a cupboard by his older sister Angela, and told to keep quiet long enough and then to run.

 

“So Kevin waited and when he ran, he ran to his only friend, the fourteen year old boy. He snuck into the palace and waited in the boy’s room, spilling out the story frantically until the boy finally listened, really listened.”

 

Another shrug and drink. Leo wasn’t sure how Jim could drink. He felt like his stomach would revolt if he tried to put anything in it. “From that point Kevin’s life, everyone’s lives, became blurry. The boys stole a PADD from a sleeping guard and hacked into the colony network, into the governor’s files, and saw his plans, and made plans of their own.

 

“The older boy hid Kevin Riley for a week while he, and fourteen other kids, began preparing to make a run for it. They were smart enough to know that there couldn’t be witnesses to what happened, knew that even if they were safe for the moment, they wouldn’t be soon enough. So they prepared. They started stealing food, clothing for the colder weather coming, PADD’s they erased and reprogrammed so they couldn’t be tracked. After a week, they were ready.

 

“First, they sent a message to Starfleet. Then they ran. They went in two groups. They made it into the city easily, but found chaos there. Security had come for the first wave of round-ups in town. There were screams, sounds of phasers, people rushing back and forth. In a way, it was lucky because no one noticed the kids lurking around. But they lost two of their number to wayward shots and none of them had seen death before. It was . . . particularly hard on Kevin, who had already lost his family and realized for the first time what their fate had looked like.”

 

Jim swallowed the last of the drink and stared out in the haze of night, “So they ran. They wouldn’t be able to stay in the city. They found an abandoned house and ransacked it. Blankets, food, water, flashlights, matches, anything that they could carry and would be useful. On their way out of the city, they saw the fields. Saw people huddled together, crying, frightened, resigned. Then they saw Kodos himself appear, heard him speak. ‘ _The revolution is successful. But survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore, I have no alternative but to sentence you to death._ ’

 

“Saw the guards open fire and stayed, until the screams faded. They went into the forest. It was four months and three more rounds of killings until Starfleet came. Four thousand were dead, including Kodos’ staff and the remaining children in the mansion. They had heard too much it seems.

 

“The kids, and only nine were remaining at this point, were beamed up, treated, and sent home. Kevin was left orphaned. After the older boy, Kevin, and a boy named Tommy, the only three humans who remained, were retuned to Earth, a family was found for Kevin and he grew up quietly.

 

“When he was eighteen, he enrolled in Starfleet, and four years later eventually transferred his way onto my ship. It was the final year of our voyage and it was quite competitive to get a spot on the Enterprise. But Kevin was persistent and loved every minute of it, of being in space. Loved the view of having a planet below you, or above you, but watching the approach was his favorite part. Every time we approached a planet he could be found in the observation lounge, watching. Earth was always his favorite. I don’t think he ever forgot the feeling the first time they saw Earth after Tarsus.”

 

Jim shrugged and Leo barely breathed. It was like he wasn’t even here and Jim was just speaking into the ether. After a few minutes, Jim turned to him and his blue eyes were filled with something raw, “A few weeks before we returned to Earth the final time, we stopped at an M-class planet that had never been explored before. A first contact mission. The natives were . . . unwelcoming. Kevin had pleaded to come and finally I replaced my first officer with him. After all, it was supposed to be a friendly planet.

 

“We beamed in, were surrounded immediately. They didn’t even bother talking, just started shooting. We managed to break through far enough to make a run for it but I took a hit to the leg. Took three actually. Kevin stopped to pick me up and when he turned, he took a hit to the chest. Lieutenant Graham, managed to drag us both out of there and into cover. We hid for six hours, until Spock came for us. Kevin bled out before then. His body was cremated and his ashes released into space. Where he was happiest.”

 

Leo could barely breathe his chest was so tight. He looked over to see blue eyes staring back at him, glimmering with tears, hand clenched around his glass. “Told you it wasn’t a nice story.”

 

The sound of the storm was the only thing audible. Thunder rolled and lightening flashed around them, barely any separation between the two. They were right in the middle of the storm.

 

Rising unsteadily to his feet, Jim tried a sardonic smile, “So to the birthday of one Kevin Riley, the unluckiest kid in the known universe.”

 

The tension that had bound Leo so tightly while Jim was talking snapped one its bonds. Leo was on his feet before he realized, crowding Jim against the railing, “It was you, the older boy, wasn’t it?”

 

“Does it matter?” Jim asked quietly, keeping his eyes locked to Leo’s.

 

It would explain so many things in his medical history Leo had wondered about. The actual injuries had been listed but not the locations they were sustained, Starfleet’s security compromise. And he’d wondered, more than wondered, what had happened to Jim in his teen years. There were so many injuries. Too many. More than could be explained by Tarsus. There was more than this one story.

 

Leo crowded a bit closer, too intent, too caught up in those startling eyes, to think clearly, “No . . . and yes. I’m sorry you lost your friend, Jim.”

 

Tears filled those eyes once more but didn’t fall. He leaned forward and rested his head against Leo’s shoulder, “Kevin was adopted by a family in Atlanta. Used to come to Madison for the 4th of July festival. Talked about it as he was bleeding out in my arms. Talked about how green it was, how beautiful. And how after he’d explored space for awhile he thought it might be nice to retire here, where the fields are always green.”

 

Hesitantly, Leo’s arms lifted and he paused only a moment before sliding them around Jim’s back. He felt a shudder run through the man, the kind caused by held back tears, and tightened his arms. Slowly, one of hands began stroking a soft rhythm over Jim’s back and he felt Jim sink into him a bit further.

 

With the rain still falling, the lights in the house extinguished, they were cocooned by the night. No one was present to hear Jim’s nearly silent, “I killed him, Bones. He saved my life twice and now he’s dead because of it. And this, this what I have here, is all he ever wanted.”

 

Large hands wrapped around Jim’s jaw and thumbs nudged his head up so they were staring at each other once more. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t kill him. Those savages on that god-forsaken planet did and you aren’t responsible for their actions. You can’t save everyone, Jim. It’s the first and hardest thing you learn as a surgeon. Sometimes, it’s just out of your hands.”

 

One of Jim’s hands lifted from where they were resting on his waist and brushed against the frown that had been furrowed into Leo’s brow all night, “Like Kelly-Anne, age five?”

 

“Christ,” Leo murmured, eyes closing and resting his forehead against Jim’s. He didn’t let himself think about the intimacy of their position. A hug between friends was acceptable. This was . . . something else.

 

Finally, he nodded and lifted his head, feeling some of the guilt ease, “Yes, like Kelly-Anne.”

 

A hushed silence fell again, neither man moving away. Jim’s gaze dropped to his mouth and Leo trembled like it was an actual touch. His breath caught when Jim ran a thumb gently over his lower lip and Leo let his own gaze fall to the lips he had steadfastly ignored all these weeks. God, he was beautiful.

 

Jim leaned in slowly, giving him the chance to move away. Leo’s hands slid to cup Jim’s nape, urging him wordlessly closer. Nervously, Leo’s tongue peeked to swipe at his lower tongue and before he could blink, Jim groaned and warm, full lips were pressing against his.

 

He lost himself immediately. Lost himself in the softness of Jim’s mouth and the rigidity of his body pressing against Leo’s. He reveled in the feel of Jim’s chest firm against his, muscled back flexing to push closer. A full shudder swept over Leo when Jim’s erection brushed his thigh and Leo instinctively pushed himself closer, shifting ever so slightly so their erections rubbed against each other.

 

Jim gave a groan and the tenor of the kiss immediately changed. Heat swept over Leo and he felt a hand possessively palm his neck, tilting his head back and suddenly feeling the silky glide of Jim’s tongue. Leo didn’t know how long they stood there, tasting each other, panting against each other, hands wandering over backs, and up chests.

 

Leo felt drugged, dizzy with the feel and touch and taste of Jim. The voice in his head trying to surface was immediately drowned by the feel of Jim palming his ass, squeezing firm cheeks. The vibrations of Jim’s moan rippled through him, causing him to crowd Jim further against the railing. Jim nipped his lower lip hard enough to hurt and immediately sucked it between his own lips, licking and soothing.

 

A hand slid into Leo’s back pocket and a soft whisper slid against his mouth, “Bones.”

 

It was that sound intruding into their world of sighs and pants that caused Leo to surface.  He slid his mouth from Jim’s, nearly moving back at Jim’s soft whine, and buried his face in Jim’s neck, breathing hard, eyes clenched shut. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

 

Shame and anger swept through him in equal measures next, reasserting his reason and suddenly the weight of his wedding ring was overwhelming. The hand with such a visible reminder of Leo’s shame dropped from the muscled pec, thumb reluctantly sliding off Jim’s pebbled nipple.

 

Slowly, achingly slowly, Leo began the process of detangling their bodies. Jim had gone still, watching him with hooded eyes as Leo put distance between their bodies, flinching when his erection, throbbing, brushed once more against Jim’s. His hands fell to clench the railing behind Jim and he closed his eyes against the temptation of the golden haired man before him.

 

“I can’t do this.”

 


	4. Aftermath

 

 

Leo rested his head against his arm, letting the hot water beat down up on his back. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_!  He clenched his eyes shut and tried to ignore the throbbing in his groin. This was ridiculous. It had been six weeks since _the kiss_ , and though naming it as such made Leo feel like a thirteen-year old girl, but he couldn’t seem to call it anything else. Couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.  And it seemed the more time went by, the more Leo remembered the feel of Jim beneath his hands, his lips. The memory should have faded, dammit. Instead, it had retained all of its vivacity.

 

He had woken this morning, like he had too many mornings, hard. He’d dreamed about it again and in the first blink of morning, Leo could still smell the rain, feel the wooden porch beneath his feet, fingertips tingled with the recalled touch of Jim’s shoulders, back, hips. And the taste of his mouth, flavored with bourbon, washed over his taste buds. _Fuck._

 

Giving a groan, Leo let his hand slid down his abs and roughly grasped his cock, stroking himself quickly and roughly, punishing himself for the desire he shouldn’t feel and couldn’t forget. He called up the memory of Jim’s tongue in his mouth, stroking, trying to speed up his orgasm. So lost in the memory of Jim Leo didn’t hear the shower door open and jolted in shock when a svelte body curved around his back.

 

“Hmmm,” Jocelyn whispered sleepily, gliding her hands around Leo’s stomach, “poor baby.” She didn’t seem to notice the tension that had gripped every muscle in Leo’s body, or at least attributed to arousal. Soft fingers trailed up his thighs and over his hips, circling through the water and tracing the outline of stomach muscles improved by the recent weeks spent working off frustration in the hospital gym.

 

A soft kiss was pressed between his shoulders as Jocelyn traced more heavily defined muscles, “These are new . . . and lovely. Been spending time in the gym?”

 

Leo took a deep, steadying breath, and called up a smile. Guilt was ripping through him and the urge to confess _the kiss_ rose in him again. And like every other time it had, Leo squashed it. It didn’t mean anything and he didn’t want to risk his marriage over something that never should have happened.

 

Slowly he turned to face her and pushing Jim to the back of his mind, he took the opportunity to appreciate the sight of his wife naked, wet, hair pulled up messily. Jocelyn smiled and slid her arms around his waist, hugging him, and Leo sighed in relief. He could still feel that spark of attraction between them, eased and enhanced by sixteen years of marriage. Hugging her smaller frame to him, he ran gentle hands down her back, caressing her sides and running fingers over the swell of her buttocks. Jocelyn snuggled in, “I’m sorry I’ve been working so much. This case has just eaten every hour I have.”

 

Leo himself had scheduled a brutal pace at the hospital over the last couple of months, taking advantage of the fact that Jocelyn had been immersed in case since February and wouldn’t notice Leo’s distraction.

 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “I know it’s important to you, being your first big case as a full partner. I don’t want you to worry about anything else. I’ll still be here when it’s over.”

 

Jocelyn tipped her head up and pressed a kiss against his mouth, “How did I get so lucky? Most men would have a hard time with their wife disappearing into law books for months at a time.”

 

Rising guilt was squashed once more. He lifted a hand to trace over her cheek and allowed himself to remember why he had fallen in love with this woman. Her mind had been a not inconsiderable lure. “I’m proud of you. Proud of what you’ve accomplished. Besides,” he teased with a hint of a smile, “I’m thinking we should plan a vacation for the big bonus you’re gonna get when you tromp the other guys.”

 

Jocelyn smiled at that, “Vacation, huh?”

 

Leo nodded, “It’s been awhile. I was thinking a beach, you in a bikini, mint juleps, and room service.”

 

He felt her smile against his shoulder. She nodded and Leo felt slick hands gliding down his front she leaned back. “Sounds wonderful. You and I have a date six months from now. In the mean time though,” she murmured, leaning up to brush a kiss against his lips, “how about I take care of this for you?”

 

A small hand, _too small_ a horrible part of his brain whispered, took hold of his erection and Leo shut his eyes and bit on his lip, trying desperately to ensure “Jim” didn’t escape instead of “Jocelyn” _._

 

***

 

Jim shoved another pillow underneath his chest and peered more closely at the plans spread out on his floor. He would say he needed a proper desk but was scared Eleanora would hear him and drag him off for more shopping in Atlanta. She’d finally declared his house livable about two weeks ago and Jim had been enjoying the peace. He’d slept, read, gone riding (having purchased Boadicea once his stables had been refurbished), and in general enjoyed the peacefulness of his house.

 

Really.

 

He hadn’t been at all tempted to drop by Bones’ office. Or drop by Eleanora’s on a Saturday afternoon. Not at all tempted. He was respecting the fact that Bones was married. He’d forgotten for a bit but that couldn’t happen again. And he was fine with that. It was a just the allure of something new. A challenge.

 

But that was over now. He’d called Gaila and she’d come over and done her best to distract him. Repeatedly. And ignoring a naked, seductive Orion was not something Jim had ever been capable of. Never wanted to be capable of.  In fact, Gaila should be arriving soon. She’d commed Jim yesterday that she would be arriving in the morning. He was more than a little grateful he wouldn’t be spending another Saturday forcing himself not to think about how easy it would be to see Bones.

 

In the meantime, he had these plans to study.

 

Spock, knowing him as well as he had, recognized that Jim was about at the end of his rope six weeks ago and had suggested his name to the Vulcan Council when they had begun discussing the plans to rebuild the Vulcan space defenses and fleet. Jim understood their continued reluctance to be dependent on the Federation.

 

So when the Council had contacted him about being a liaison to the VSA, Jim had been too intrigued to even contemplate saying no. He hadn’t been asked to consult on Vulcan’s initial planetary defenses, seeing as he’d been twenty-two, just given his first command, and had been rather occupied. But he saw quite a few improvements needed and they should be addressed as soon as possible, seeing as how an Orion-Romulan alliance seemed to be in the making. It had not been an alliance possible when Vulcan still lived, but it had been drawing closer over the last ten years. It was a frightening thought, such an alliance, as it would practically amount to a declaration of war. And with the Federation occupied, New Vulcan would be left vulnerable. Too vulnerable.

 

So he had the plans of the space station already mostly built laid out before him, weapons plans, and the schematics of ships that were under consideration for purchase by the Council. And they were adequate, but hardly sufficient, and more importantly, all too easy to anticipate.

 

Jim was making notes on a PADD when the doorbell rang. He looked up confused; Gaila never rang the doorbell. She had the security code. Pushing himself easily up to his feet, reluctantly acknowledging that months with Janice Rand had improved his leg, he shoved his glasses into his pocket and made his way to the door.

 

“Gaila, you know you never have to ring . . .” Jim trailed off as the door swung open, revealing one Orion nervously biting her lip and Admiral Pike, smirking.

 

“Jim.”

 

Gaila was twisting her hands and she moved forward and leaned to press a kiss against Jim’s cheek, “Not my fault, he followed me and refused to go away.”

 

She gave him a half smile and moved past Jim, sneaking into the house leaving Jim staring at the man he’d been avoiding for the last six months. He sighed and opened the door, “Might as well come in, Chris.”

 

Pike dropped the bags near the stairs and surveyed the place. “Nice. So, this is where you’ve been hiding.”

 

“Retired, Chris, retired. Not everyone wants to live out their lives behind a desk.”

 

Pike shot him a cool look and Jim just smiled, “Not under your command anymore. That look can’t make me squirm. And I’m not coming back.”

 

Pike lifted his hands and smiled, “I just wanted to see what could lure Jim Kirk into retired complacency. You domestic is a hard thing to imagine. I just wanted to see what managed it.”

At the too-innocent tone in Pike’s voice, Jim just laughed, “And you’re not taunting me into coming back, either. But you might as well stay for a while. I even have a guest bedroom you can stay in.”

 

Pike just smiled, “I heard.”

 

***

 

They were all in the kitchen pouring over the Vulcan plans an hour later. Pike shook his head, “I don’t think Starfleet knows about these plans.”

 

Jim quirked a smile, “And I expect them to remain uninformed for as long as the Vulcan Council deems appropriate.”

 

Chris merely laughed and held up his hands, “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, I’m just visiting an old friend. Besides, Komack would only have a fit that the Council would ultimately ignore.”

 

“They can’t afford to put this off any longer,” Gaila murmured. “If the Romulans and Orions make an alliance, you can bet your ass the colony will come under attack.”

 

Jim nodded in agreement, “And their primary defenses aren’t sufficient right now. They’ve been protected by the Federation so far but if the fleet is occupied fending off Orion and Romulan attacks, they’re left vulnerable. Besides the fact that such a war will create a power vacuum the Federation can’t afford. There are too many players interested in seeing the Federation and Romulus looking the other way right now. Cardassia could be a problem, the Dominion a bigger problem.”

 

Pike settled on a stool, “Which won’t necessarily matter since the Federation can’t win a war if the Romulans and Orions pool resources.”

 

Jim shrugged, “Not by ourselves, but there’s a significant chance we can get the Klingons into a temporary alliance. Their fleet hasn’t been completely rebuilt from Nero’s attack but they’ve made remarkable strides. And they don’t want the Orions allying with the Romulans anymore than we do. And if Romulus gives Orion the cloak technology, we’ll definitely need Klingon birds of prey. Plus, working with the Klingons gives us a better chance at getting the cloak technology as well.”

 

Gaila tapped her mouth as she thought aloud, “We aren’t actually that far from it on our own now. Even though the Narada didn’t have cloaking abilities, its advanced tech and the scans Spock took and transmitted from the Jellyfish have pushed our tech far ahead of where it would normally be. The greater advantage of getting the Klingons into an alliance is the curbing effect it would have on Orion. The Syndicate depends heavily on the Klingons ignoring incursions in their space, for a significant pay off of course, by the slaving ships to pass through. It’s been a long, profitable relationship between the Klingon Empire and the Syndicate. The Syndicate won’t want to lose that.”

 

Pike considered, “Won’t that make them more likely to either ally with Orion or at least stay out of the whole thing?”

 

“Not if we can persuade them that the real threat comes from Romulus, which it does,” Jim noted, still studying ship schematics. “The Syndicate poses little risk to the Klingons. But if the Romulans take out the Federation, it gives them too much space, and more importantly, the majority of known dilithium deposits. The Klingon fleet would be quickly overwhelmed and easily conquered at that point. The simple fact is that we need the Klingons and they need us. It just might be enough to advert war.”

 

Pike nodded. This had all been discussed in the admiralty, but the problem was making contact with the Empire and getting them to the table . . . all without the Romulans and Orions finding out. Before he could ask Jim how he thought he could lure the Klingons to the table, the comm in the kitchen rang.

 

Gaila looked over and grinned, “Ooh, it’s Eleanora. Can I answer?”

 

Grinning, Jim nodded and went back to pouring over ship schematics with Pike. Five minutes later Gaila bounced back over, “She invited us to lunch. We’re to be there at one. By the way, she said she’s angry with you for failing to tell her you were having company and being forced to hear it from Trudy McAllister. You are to bring flowers in reparation.”

 

Chris arched a brow, “Eleanora huh? She the reason you’re so comfortable here?”

 

Jim grinned at that and nodded sagely, “Yes, yes she is. A beautiful woman, Eleanora.”

 

Gaila rolled her eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m gonna go shower and get ready. I suggest you take the Admiral here and pay a visit to the florist in town. Get some _really_ nice flowers. Maybe some white wine. You know she hates it when Trudy gets a leg up on her in the gossip department. Maybe a Gavi for the wine and I’d go for gardenias.”

 

She flounced away leaving Jim and Chris staring at each other bemusedly. Jim recovered first and grabbed the keys to his car, “Well, we got our orders, Admiral. Let’s go. I’ll give you the Madison tour.”

 

 

An hour later they returned to the house and Gaila was waiting impatiently at the foot of the stairs, “We’re going to be late. It’s rude. And you still have to change.”

 

Jim looked between he and Pike, “Which one of us?”

 

“Both of you. Now shoo. I don’t want to see a pair of jeans on either of you when you come down.”

 

Gaila had taken to Southern dining readily. Weekend lunches meant semi-casual dress, which Gaila interpreted as dressy. Jim thought she just appreciated the chance to use her rather extensive wardrobe. And the results, he had to admit, were lovely. She was in a sunny yellow halter dress that displayed her breasts to great advantage before flaring out at the hip and falling softly just below her knees. It was light and airy, sexy and sweet, perfectly Gaila. Jim dropped a kiss on a bare shoulder on his way up the stairs and gave her a wink, “I promise not to shame you.”

 

Gaila tilted her head in consideration and Jim knew she was staring at his ass. Halfway up the stairs she called, “The navy pants. Definitely the navy pants.”

 

***

 

Jim pasted an easy smile on his face and tried not to think about the fact that he would be seeing Leo for the first time since that disastrous evening. They’d run into each other in town twice and each time Leo had simply given him a nod and continued on his way. Jim told himself it was fine. McCoy was married. And if he had lost the possibility of a friend, he had only himself to blame. Kissing him had been monumentally stupid. Amazing . . . but stupid.

 

Gaila, who had heard Jim obsess about it the first week after it had happened, gave his hand a supporting squeeze and shifted a bit closer to him. They’d been best friends and casual lovers since the Academy and Jim was grateful that she was here. Gaila reminded him that he was a former captain, a decorated hero, and a desired man. He was _not_ a young boy mooning over his first crush.

 

Eleanora opened the door and Jim was undeniably relieved. He would take all the time he could get before seeing Leo. She smiled widely, “Jim, Gaila, it’s lovely to see you. It’s been a coon’s age. What trouble have y’all been makin’?”

 

Gaila just giggled and hugged Eleanora close, “It’s sooo good to see you. I went to an Illyrian ballet last week and have been dying to tell you about it.”

 

Eleanora tucked her arm around Gaila swung the door back, gesturing them into the house. She accepted the wine and flowers gracefully, kissing Jim’s cheek while scolding him, and then turned to Pike. Jim grinned, knowing Pike hadn’t taken his eyes off Eleanora yet, “Eleanora, this is my former commanding officer, Admiral Christopher Pike. Chris, this is Eleanora McCoy. Eleanora is a tenured professor of Early American history at Emory University and also one of the premier horse breeders on the continent.”

 

Chris stepped forward and took her hand, brushing a kiss on her eyes while keeping his slate blue eyes locked onto her, “Mrs. McCoy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Gaila and Jim have told me so many wonderful things about you.”

 

A pretty blush stained her cheeks and Jim watched amused as she expertly batted her eyes, “Admiral, it is such an honor to have you visit our little town. Any man who could command Jimmy must be quite the man indeed.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes and snorted softly, turning it into a cough when Gaila elbowed him. Not that it mattered; neither Pike nor Eleanora were paying Jim a lick of attention. Finally, Eleanora remembered they were all standing in the entry way and blushed again, “Well, let me get y’all some drinks. Jocelyn’s in the drawing room and Leo’s finishing up in the kitchen.”

 

They made their way into the drawing room and introduced Jocelyn to Pike. While they initially started out conversing with each other, inevitably Pike drew Eleanora into a conversation on the pre-warp American Civil War, leaving Jim, Gaila, and Jocelyn to chat amongst themselves, shooting the older couple amused looks. The attraction had been immediate and obvious, which Kirk was relieved to see. Pike hadn’t been the same since Number One’s ship had been lost five years prior to a Romulan warbird.

 

Jim flirted with Jocelyn and Gaila, their conversation light and filled with easy laughter. Jim forced himself to look Jocelyn in the eyes and not think about how her husband tasted, or how he had moaned softly into Jim’s mouth. Tried not to envy her knowledge of what Leo looked, felt, like naked.

 

Tried not to flinch when that deep drawl came from the doorway, “Lunch is ready.”

 

Jim looked up slowly and repressed a shiver when he met hazel eyes, his hands clenching on his glass, teeth biting into his lower lip. He looked . . . great. He was wearing a white button-down open at the throat, emphasizing his tan and making the dark stubble along his jaw even more appetizing. Jim wanted to know what the spot where jaw met ear tasted like, wanted to know the texture of that stubble along his lips, chest, thighs.

 

Taking a deep breath, Jim forced himself to stand, Gaila rising with him and laying a steadying hand on Jim’s arm. He nearly felt Leo’s eyes flick to her hand and he forced a smile onto his face. Pike had risen as well and this time Eleanora did the introductions. Leo broke his eyes away from Jim and shook Pike’s hand, “Good to see you again, Admiral. You’re looking well. No complications?”

 

Pike was grinning and reached forward to clap Leo’s shoulder, “Dr. McCoy, what a suprise!”

 

Jim’s brows shot up, “You two know each other?”

 

Pike smiled easily, “Dr. McCoy here was brought in on my surgery when we returned to Earth. He performed the neural grafting on my spine, and seeing as he developed the procedure, I couldn’t have been in better hands. In fact, I tried to recruit him afterwards.”

 

Jocelyn laughed and moved to her feet next to Leo, taking his arm, “I’m afraid I’m the reason that didn’t happen, Admiral.”

 

Leo rolled his eyes, “That, not wanting to become a student again at twenty-seven, and my aviaphobia is all that kept me from Starfleet. Well, that and the fact that I would rather poke out my own eye than get beamed all over the damn galaxy. Now, let’s eat. Food’s gettin’ cold.”

 

 

***

 

Lunch was an excruciating affair. At least from Jim’s perspective. Like it was specifically designed to torture him. Chris and Eleanora kept themselves entertained, causing Leo to shoot Jim annoyed looks and Gaila and Jocelyn to speculate happily on a budding attraction. This left the two men sitting quietly and awkwardly. This was only aggravated when lunch ended and Jocelyn took Gaila away to look some dresses she was considering for a summer party and Eleanora took Pike down to the stables.

 

Silence fell and Jim cleared his throat awkwardly, “She must like him. I didn’t even get a personal tour of the stables.”

 

Leo snorted, “Yeah, thanks for that.”

 

Jim studied him, seeing tension in every line of the doctor’s body. “He’s only a few years older than her, has an excellent job, and is widely respected. Surely he meets with your approval. Besides, they’re taking a walk to the stables, not down the aisle.”

 

A scowl emerged, “Damn right.”

 

Jim had to laugh at that and the awkward silence descended again. Jim sighed. Fuck it. “Look, if I apologized, would it make things any better?”

 

Jim watched as Leo’s hands clenched before a gruff voice muttered, “Or we could just not talk about it and forget it ever happened.”

 

He turned and faced him, a sardonic smile tugging at his mouth, “How’s that been working for you?”

 

A flush stained scruffy cheeks and Leo looked away, “The only way it can. I’m married.”

 

“I know.”

 

It was said quietly. Neither man spoke for a few minutes and finally Jim tried again. “Look, it was a shitty night for both of us. We were both . . . restless and had been drinking. And you’re hot.” Jim shrugged at the glare Leo shot him, “No point in denying the obvious. So, it got a little away from us but it’s nothing to freak out about. It happened, it won’t again. No reason for us not to be friends because we got drunk and stupid one night. Hell, if that prevented friendships I wouldn’t have any friends left.”

 

Leo snorted at that and drained his drink. “We aren’t friends.”

 

Jim kept the smile on his face steady, “Sure we are. You’re just in denial about it. But that’s okay, I can wait you out.”

 

Hazel eyes flicked over to him before looking away, “I haven’t told Jocelyn and I’m not planning to.”

 

“Nothing to tell,” Jim said smoothly around the lump in his throat.

 

Leo sat perfectly still for a moment and then nodded, “Damn straight. So, tell me about the Orion. This is the fourth or fifth time she’s been out here. You guys serious?”

 

The note of jealousy was subtle but present and Jim remembered the look Leo had given Gaila’s hand on his arm. He repressed a smile and leaned back against the couch, “I didn’t know you cared, Bones.”

 

“Don’t be an ass,” came the swift reply.

 

Jim nearly joked that Leo liked his ass before he caught himself. Christ. Half his jokes were sexual in nature and it was gonna make this whole friends-with-Bones thing awkward. So instead, Jim just shrugged, “We’ve got a friends with benefits kinda thing going on. Gaila doesn’t really believe in monogamy.”

 

“Apparently, neither do you.” Came the swift and sharp reply.

 

“Don’t be an ass,” Jim shot back. The two men stared at each other some more and Leo’s shoulders slumped.

 

“Shit,” he muttered, running a tired hand over his face, “sorry. Maybe this forget-it-and-be-friends thing isn’t a good idea.”

 

Jim drained his own glass and shrugged jerkily, “We’ll get better at it.”

 

The resulting laugh was bitter, “Sure, kid. Better.”

 

***

 

Better was a relative term, Jim reminded himself a couple of weeks later. They had stopped avoiding each other, though they still spent relatively little time together and never alone. Jim had joined Leo and Jocelyn for lunch one afternoon, making more of an effort to get to know Jocelyn under the theory that it would reduce his level of temptation.

 

Instead, all it had done was increased his guilt. He liked Jocelyn, really liked her. If it hadn’t been for Leo, Jim had no doubt he would be actively pursuing the woman. She was his preferred female physical type, petite and curvy, and made alluring by the fact she was brilliant to boot. He’d gotten into an energetic debate with her about the merits of Andorian trade law and didn’t mind acknowledging that she’d wiped the floor with him. In fact, in any other circumstances, he would have totally been turned on by it.

 

But all he could concentrate on was the amused gleam in hazel eyes, the tap of long, gorgeous fingers, and a lush lower lip he couldn’t get out of his fucking dreams. When Leo had begun rubbing that lower lip during the discussion it had taken every control Jim had not to get hard in the restaurant.

 

Jim kept telling himself that he only had to hold out until Spock and T’Pring arrived, which thankfully was soon. Spock would argue some reason back into Jim’s life, some sanity back into his mind while T’Pring would psychoanalyze him into a traumatic state of being that would prevent him from ever achieving an erection again. At this point, Jim was practically eager for it.

 

But first he had to get through the Midsummer Eve party the McCoy family threw every year. And apparently it was also Leo and Jocelyn’s anniversary so he anticipated a night of hell watching them together. He was bringing Gaila to act as a buffer . . . and a friend to pour him into bed because Jim had every intention of getting quietly and steadily drunk.

 

Because really, this whole thing was bullshit. Complete bullshit. He was James Tiberius Fucking Kirk for Christ’s sake. He had a reputation across entire quadrants and while some of it was exaggerated, most of it wasn’t. He had never been this focused on someone before. And it wasn’t just that he couldn’t have Leo.

 

There had been people he’d wanted and never had. Hell, he’d spent a good portion of the Academy fantasizing about Spock and it hadn’t prevented him from becoming best friends with the Vulcan _or_ his bondmate. Spock and T’Pring were family to Jim, siblings, a brother-in-arms and a sister of his heart. And both knew that if given the opportunity, Jim would have been all over Spock like white on rice during their academy days.

 

So it wasn’t just that Leo was married and therefore out of bounds. But hell if Jim knew what exactly it _was_. Sure, the doctor was hot. You’d have to be blind not to notice, and even then his voice was enough to make a saint sin right into his robes. But he was also prickly, surly, rude, and more than a little vicious when cornered.

 _But_ , another part of him chimed, _he’s brilliant._ And Jim had always been attracted to brilliance (see above attraction to Spock). And he was kind. Genuinely kind. Trudy McAllister was telling him just a week ago that Leo visited Mrs. Yoshima every Tuesday evening to check on the woman approaching her one hundred and fourteenth birthday. She was on about seventeen different medications and lived alone due to outliving her husband and children. Leo gave her a check up, some conversation and dinner, and sorted out her medications into daily doses for the week. And would be horrified that Jim knew. That’s just the sort of man Leonard McCoy was – a marshmallow heart under a prickly pine exterior. And damn it if it didn’t just draw Jim in that much deeper.

 

Jim sighed and put his book down. He’d been reading the same page for the last twenty minutes.

 

Wandering aimlessly around his house for awhile, Jim finally gave up and headed up to his library/office. He’d given up on the floor and had Eleanora turn a corner of the library into a workspace, putting in a large drafting desk and comfortable chair and increasing the lighting. If he wasn’t able to read, he might as well work. He’d sent in the preliminary recommendations for the improvements to New Vulcan’s planetary defenses and had gotten a request for more in-depth plans. So basically he was now designing the improvements and now writing the code for the computer systems. And was quite happy with the challenge. It kept his mind off Pike’s final parting shot of, “The Federation needs you, Jim. There’s still work to be done among the stars.”

 

It was a cheap shot; Pike knowing him as he did, and more than a little clichéd. But Jim couldn’t deny it was tempting. He wouldn’t get his own ship, which rankled more than a little, but he wouldn’t necessarily be on Earth either. But he’d have to be a diplomat. And that was a whole different kind of sucking.

 

It had taken Jim a few years to become a good diplomat, to not resent it with every fiber of his being. And while he always preferred the exploratory missions, he couldn’t deny the importance of diplomacy. While most assumed Jim Kirk would prefer to fight than talk from his reputation, they didn’t know him well enough to know that while he never minded putting himself in danger, he would never put his crew, let alone his planet, as risk for a fight. He had watched six billion lives disappear in an instant. Had lost dozens of crewmembers in the ten years he commanded a star ship. He would not willing watch any more loss of life. War was a no-win situation and he didn’t believe in no-win situations.

 

So the idea of being a diplomat wasn’t all bad. But he doubted he could get away with simply punching an ambassador when they wouldn’t see it his way. On the Enterprise, when all else failed, he’d had his ship, her ample nacelles, phaser banks, and photon torpedoes. Plus, dammit, he’d have to deal with Komack again. Just that thought was enough to send him running permanently into the arms of New Vulcan. He’d rather deal with a thousand ancient, pissy Vulcans than that ass.

 

He heard his doorbell ring and picked up his PADD in mischievous joy. He’d gotten annoyed climbing down two flights of stairs when he doorbell rang so he’d rewired all of his comms and security to his personal PADD. With one touch of his screen, he activated the camera at the front door and saw Leo there, already scowling. Jim grinned in unholy glee. “Come on in, I’m in the library,” he called through his PADD and activated the door to open, watching Leo jump and then curse.

 

Eyes narrowed and he scanned the doorway until he found the small camera, which he promptly flipped off, “Goddamit, Jim! Scared the daylights out of me.”

 

Jim couldn’t help the chuckle as he heard Leo tromp through the house and as footsteps came closer, he couldn’t help but wonder what brought the good doctor by. Leo hadn’t stopped by since they’d kissed.

 

Leo’s head came up first, followed quickly by his body and Jim watched the process with an appreciative eye. He pushed back in his chair, unaware of the picture he made in dark denim, a light blue t-shirt that stretched across his chest and highlighted his eyes, which were framed by thick-rimmed black glasses. He stretched his arms over his head, folding his hands at the base of his neck, unaware of the strip of taut belly it revealed, “What can I do for you, Bones?”

 

***

 

Leo swallowed thickly, ripped his eyes off that strip of skin, and prevented the many answers that popped up in response to that question, each one more inappropriate than the last. Leo sighed and shifted his gaze. Of course, nowhere he looked made the picture any less tempting. Despite Jim’s truly atrocious eating habits, the man must still be working out cause there wasn’t any excess body fat on him that Leo could see. His stomach was still flat and ripped, his pecs still well defined, his arms shown to well-muscled advantage by the t-shirt. Leo forced himself to stop cataloguing and met Jim’s inquisitive gaze. Not that that helped.

 

He was wearing glasses for Christ’s sake. Who even wore glasses in this day and age? Only Jim, because his ridiculous allergies made it impossible for him to use correcting eye drops. So, instead he wore glasses. Nerdy ones with thick, black, square rims that should have made him look ridiculous. Instead, Leo wanted to kiss him until those glasses fogged right up. _Shit_.

 

He sighed, more convinced than ever that this was the right thing to do. He clenched his hands briefly, “I, uh, needed to talk to you about something.”

 

Jim’s eyes widened and he rose quickly, gracefully to his feet, alarmed, “Is something wrong? Is it Eleanora?”

 

“What? God, no, Jim. Nothing like that. It’s,” and here Leo shifted uneasily, knowing he was about to feel ridiculous, “it’s actually about us.”

 

Up went the eyebrows, “Us?”

 

Leo flushed and he waved a hand weakly between them, “You know, this . . . . friends thing we’re trying.”

 

A frown crossed Jim’s face, as if he knew where Leo was going with this. His tone was suspicious, “Yeah?”

 

Leo forced himself to remember the look on Jocelyn’s face earlier than morning when she’d kissed him goodbye before going to work. Loving, trusting. And he remembered the shame he felt this morning when he’d woken up coming into his shorts, Jim’s name an unspoken whisper on his lips.

 

Jocelyn had been his wife for sixteen years. Been his friend for over thirty. He wouldn’t do this to her.

 

Jim Kirk was . . . just a guy, Leo told himself. Just a guy that Leo had a purely physical attraction to, something caused by pheromones Leo had little control over. But he had control over his actions. And no matter if he thought that he and Jim could have been friends in another life, in this one, Leo was just too damn hungry for a taste of that mouth for anyone’s good. He didn’t understand it, didn’t like it, but there it was. This game they were playing was dangerous and eventually the devil would demand his due. And Leo simply couldn’t afford the price he would have to pay for James T. Kirk.

 

So, he took a deep breath, opened his gaze and spoke calmly, “We can’t be friends, Jim.”

 

Surprise was written all over the other man’s face for a flash before Jim shut it all down. Leo swallowed under the gaze of the blue eyes, for the first time seeing the captain in the man, “Can’t we?”

 

“I can’t, Jim.” Leo spoke softly and sincerely. Honestly. It was only absolute honesty that was going to get him through this. There was no room for pride. “I can’t look at you platonically. I look at you and . . . I _want_. And I can’t, Jim. I can’t be the guy who cheats on his wife, can’t be the guy who lies to his family and himself in the mirror. Can’t be anything less than I was raised to be. And this, whatever this _thing_ is between us, makes me less. Because I am married. And she deserves the best of me.”

 

Leo’s fists were clenched by the end of this, waiting for Jim’s response. It shouldn’t matter so much, the look on Jim’s face. But it did. And Leo felt a part of him hurting, knowing Jim was just as helpless in this as he was.

 

Jim’s eyes were hooded and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, basically, you’re telling me you want me too much to be friends with me.”

 

When the only response Leo gave was to look away, a mirthless laugh escaped from Jim’s chest, “Fuck, you really know how to make things easy on a guy, don’t you? ‘Stay away from me, Jim, or I might jump you’.”

 

Anger whipped out of Leo at the flippant tone. “This isn’t some fucking game to me! This is my life and marriage that’s on the line. I didn’t ask for you to come waltzing into my town like you fucking own it, like you’re due something. Every single person under the age of sixty is throwing themselves at you. Pick one of them if it means so goddamn little to you. Hell, you’ve got an Orion practically draped around you every fucking time I turn around!”

 

Leo was yelling by the end, stalking forward and pushing into Jim’s personal space. The guy was _unfuckingbelievable_. “But don’t you fucking _laugh_ at me for doing the right thing here. Doing the only thing I can.” Leo was too incensed to see the fire ignite in those ice blue eyes.

 

Suddenly hands were wrapped around his arms like a fucking vise and Jim was biting out, “You know, fuck you! I don’t need this anymore than you do. I don’t need some prick making me feel guilty for wanting the same thing he wants. You’re not the only one who didn’t ask for this fucking bullshit drama! And I’m not that guy either. My partners have always been available and consensual. And if you think otherwise, then why the hell are you even attracted to me?”

 

Leo felt each punch of his words like actual body blows and he repressed a shudder. For long moments the only sound was their breathing, harsh with pent up aggression. Jim’s hand were still wrapped around Leo’s arms and he was reluctant the break the connection. Reluctant to give up this last feel of Jim.

 

And when Leo was about to break the silence with an apology, Jim muttered, “Fuck it,” and yanked him forward. Leo was immediately subsumed in sensation and willingly gave himself up to it. If he was going to walk away, he wanted at least an idea of what could have been to torture himself with. It wasn’t healthy, but Leo didn’t care so much.

 

So he opened his lips to Jim’s tongue, sucked eagerly at it and smiled triumphantly at Jim’s moan. His arms moved around Jim, one cupping his nape to hold his mouth to Leo’s, the other sliding down until he found the sweet curve of ass he’d been dreaming about since their first kiss. And without hesitation, he used his grip to pull him into his hips, moving eagerly with the rhythm Jim quickly established when he felt Leo long and hard against him.

 

The denim of their jeans both decreased and increased sensation. The double layers blunting it, but also making it harsher, rougher. Both men groaned and suddenly Jim’s hands were everywhere. Under Leo’s shirt, down the back of his jeans, _fuck_ , under his shorts.

 

Leo shuddered under the feel of a warm, broad hand palming his ass, squeezing and rubbing, too clever fingers seeking out the deep valley and pressing inward. Leo cried out and wrenched his mouth from Jim’s, eagerly tracing biting kisses into the man’s jaw, tasting beneath his ear, all the while still fucking their hips together. Building up memories to take with him.

 

Jim’s eyes were barely slits of gleaming blue, hardly visible through the glasses that had indeed fogged up. Leo felt his stomach flutter and reached and pulled them slowly off, tossing them onto the couch behind him. Jim’s eyes locked onto Leo and every time Leo’s tongue would come out to taste they would flutter shut. Jim’s hand slid around Leo’s front and was working at the button of his jeans when Leo shook his head, “No, let me.”

 

And before the other man could protest, Leo was working the fastening of Jim’s jeans and taking control of Jim’s mouth just as easily as the cock that sprang into his hand, unencumbered by underwear. Leo was simultaneously grateful and annoyed. Now all he was going to think about on any given run in with Jim was if he was wearing underwear.

 

Jim’s hand was gripping his ass in rhythm with Leo’s stroking, causing him to push against Jim. He bit and nipped at those lips, determined to leave them swollen and red, speaking of Leo’s presence. Jim was groaning almost continually into his mouth now, his cock leaking in Leo’s hand, weeping in arousal, its length and width making Leo’s mouth run dry. He would glance down but was unwilling to release Jim’s lips and tongue long enough to do so.

 

Just a few strokes later, Jim’s whole body seized up tight and suddenly he was coming, Leo playing with the sensitive head even as it shot into his palm. Jim pulled away enough to suck much needed air into his lungs, panting against Leo’s own mouth, pressing little kisses against Leo, murmuring something indistinguishable under his breath.

 

Long minutes later, Jim was straightening and moved towards Leo’s own straining jeans. He simply shook his head and brought Jim close for another kiss, this one gentle and thorough, with lips clinging and tongues only gently stroking. When Leo pulled away, Jim’s eyes were closed and he took a moment to soak Jim in before he brushed one last kiss against his cheek, “Goodbye, Jim.”

 

Those vivid blue eyes opened and now were only filled with sleepy satiation and resignation. Jim claimed his own goodbye kiss, whispering, “Bye, Bones. See you around.”

 

Leonard forced his hands to release the firm body beneath them, gave Jim a weak quirk of his lips, and started moving before his cock convinced him to stay. He rushed through the house to the car, every sensation replaying itself in his mind, his body screaming at him to go back. He didn’t even remember the drive home.

 

Suddenly he was standing in an empty house, reminding himself that losing a lifetime with a wonderful woman wasn’t worth a fling that would not doubt burn out in a couple months time. His desire for Jim Kirk was too intense to be anything but transitory.

 

Finally, the throbbing in his pants became vicious enough that Leo resolved to take care of it. He would be able to think more clearly when his body wasn’t focused on release.

 

Stripping down in the bathroom, Leo dug some lube out of the cabinet, sadly untouched for quite a few months, and spread it over the erection aching between his thighs. He cleared his mind of everything but Jim. He would do this and hopefully exorcize Jim Kirk from his desires.

 

Leo’s hand flew roughly up and down his cock, sparing no gentleness or playfulness. Eyes clenched shut; all he was aware of was the memory of Jim’s cock in his hand, Jim’s mouth under his, Jim’s taste against his tongue. And soon, all too soon, Leo was shuddering as he came, biting his lip and crying out, “Jim!”

 

He took a moment to steady himself, to let the shudders finish their course, before washing his hands of come and stepping into the shower. And as the hot water was turned on, raining down his face and neck, washing away the evidence of Jim’s kisses, light footsteps crept back and crack in the bathroom door was carefully and silently shut.


	5. What Fools These Mortals Be

Jim was on his couch, staring at the small little faces sleeping so peacefully on his belly. Gaila was laying on her side on the chaise, looking at him rather than the stars above. She was smiling, “They’re perfect.”

 

The puppies snoozed, snuggled together in a picture that no one with a soul could resist. Jim ran a gentle finger over silky smooth, floppy ears and couldn’t help but grinning. He’d wanted a dog since he was a kid and with his mom’s allergies and Starfleet regulations, he’d never been able to have one. Until now.

 

He’d been having breakfast when he saw Hallie streaking out of the diner and nearly attacking an older woman on the street. In her hands was a box and inside were two retrievers, one golden, one chocolate colored. Curious, Jim had wandered outside. His fate had been sealed.

 

Initially he had asked after one puppy, but the woman, Mrs. Porter had smiled uneasily, “Really, it’s best if they’re left together. They’re brothers and don’t do well away from each other. I just picked up the golden from Mr. Thackery’s place because he just wouldn’t settle for him and he’s too advanced in age to handle two Labradors. They are quite an energetic, mischievous breed, you know.”

 

Jim had looked into the box and saw the puppies playing, tugging on each other’s ears, tumbling around. Picking them both up, the puppies immediately turned their attention to Jim, sniffling, nuzzling, licking, spreading their puppy breath all over his face. He was hooked.

 

“How old are they?”

 

“Nine weeks,” Mrs. Porter replied, sensing she had a potential taker.

 

Two sets of chocolaty eyes looked at him and they simultaneously reached up and licked his cheeks. “I’ll take ‘em.”

 

The words were out before he could stop himself but the squirming little bodies against convinced him this was the right decision. He had a lot of land. A man on a farm needed dogs. It was just a universal truth. They could defend his house. 

 

They worked out payment and while Jim should have been suspicious of the low price, he was too entranced by them to really pay attention.

 

A couple hours later, he returned to his house with two puppies in matching collars, two beds, dog food, bowls, puppy shampoo, chew toys, bones, treats, and everything else the girl at the pet shop had suggested. He had put the puppies in the living room while unloading the car and discovered a destroyed pillow by the time he had come back. It was only the first casualty.

 

Over the next week, seven more pillows had been sacrificed, Jim had become an expert floor mopper, he’d bought two books on raising and potty training dogs, installed a dog door that seemed ridiculously large for their tiny bodies (and one which they couldn’t even climb through at the present time) and had basically become sleep deprived so that he could take the puppies out every couple hours.

 

But he loved playing with them. Loved their boundless enthusiasm, willingness to chase anything he threw, and ability to stop mid-run and take a nap. And when they were in the mood to cuddle, Jim, who’d never found it easy to sit still, was perfectly content to kick back on his couch, grab a book, and read until they were all taking a nap.

 

Chasing after, playing with, cleaning up after, and cuddling with the puppies had kept Jim occupied enough that he only thought of Leo a half a dozen times a day. He had learned, out of self-defense, not to think _too_ often of the hand job, _especially_ in a public place. A couple of mornings ago he’d had to have five cups of coffee at the diner rather than his usual three, just because he’d caught sight of Leo walking into the grocery store.

 

Jim had even taken to avoiding Eleanora, her eyes, Leo’s eyes, not helping his resolution to stay away from the doctor. Jim brushed fingers down each furry nose and sighed softly.

 

“I heard you went on a date with Mrs. H’Eloise’s granddaughter last night.”

 

“You’ve been in town for six hours, all of which have been spent here. How could you possibly know that?”

 

Jim looked over to see Gaila smirking at him, “Eleanora _and_ Hallie commed me last night to tell me. They keep me up to date on all the gossip.”

 

Blue eyes rolled in equal amounts of annoyance and affection, “Maybe you should live here instead of me.”

 

A wicked smile crossed her lips, “Not a large enough population.”

 

“There’s always Atlanta,” Jim drawled.

 

Gaila smiled wider, “Hmm, but individuals tend to _live_ in Atlanta. In San Francisco, they go back to their worlds.”

 

“Have you never thought about choosing a mate?” Jim was suddenly serious about this. He’d loved Gaila since he’d known her. They’d been lovers for the last eleven years, off and on. He could be happy with Gaila. And their children would be gorgeous.

 

There was a gentle look in her eyes, “When I was in the camps, I would dream about a prince who would find me and rescue me, take me away. We would mate and have offspring, and live happily ever after.”

 

Jim’s mouth quirked, “And then?”

 

Gaila shrugged a bare shoulder, green skin gleaming under the low lamplight, “And then I realized that it was just a story and rescued myself. I came to Earth, joined Starfleet, bought myself out of slavery. I can’t imagine ever joining myself legally to another person again. I like belonging to myself. Besides,” the wicked grin returned, “I don’t believe in monogamy.”

 

“We could always find two others—like an Andorian marriage,” Jim suggested too lightly.

 

Gaila laughed and pushed herself off the chaise, moving and sitting on the floor by the couch, facing Jim. “This about the doctor?”

 

Silence met her question and Jim squirmed uneasily under her gaze. “He’s married.”

 

Another shrug met that response and Jim had to smile. Gaila really didn’t believe in monogamy and confronting it in marriages never failed to baffle her. Jim had had the pleasure of watching Spock try to convey Vulcan’s completely monogamous bonds and the logic behind it to a skeptical Gaila. Three hours later Spock had walked away logically exhausted and Gaila no less baffled. It had been awesome.

 

But the fact was monogamy was important to Leo, as much as Jim wished it weren’t. Really wished it weren’t. And though Jim had tried his best to steer away from those married, if he knew of their marital status, he was honest enough to admit to himself that it was different with Leonard McCoy. Very different.

 

Gaila caught his attention again by stroking a finger over his lower lip, “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

 

Humor sparkled in those blue eyes once again, “If anyone could, it would be you. But you get to be the one responsible for moving the boys.”

 

“Well,” Gaila murmured, “I would never. Guess we’ll just have to sit here for a while then. Have you named them yet?”

 

Jim shrugged, “I can’t decide. Keep trying to think of duos. You know, Batman and Robin, Pinky and the Brain, Tom and Jerry, Hans and Chewy, Fred and George.” At Gaila’s confused look Jim explained, “Old Terran characters. I was thinking maybe Castor and Pollux.”

 

Gaila shook her head, sending her curls bouncing, “Not for such friendly ones as these.”

 

They both stared at the puppies a bit longer before Gaila offered, “How about Hikaru and Pavel?”

 

Jim snorted but couldn’t deny it had a certain appeal. “I don’t think Captain Sulu and Commander Chekov would appreciate two puppies being named after them.”

 

A shrug dismissed that argument before Gaila rested her head on Jim’s thigh, “Well, you need to name them soon or they will never respond to anything but ‘fuzzbut’.”

 

Jim lifted a hand and began running it through silky red curls, massaging her scalp, watching as her eyes fluttered shut under his ministrations. “I’ll think of something. Promise.”

 

Quiet settled over the house as Jim stared up at the stars and Gaila slipped into dreams against his thigh. He would see Leo tomorrow. Would see him celebrating his wedding anniversary, would see him dancing, smiling, touching Jocelyn, the woman he had married sixteen years before. He was married. And Jim was just the moron who’d allowed himself to forget that fact.

 

He’d come to Georgia eager for solitude. Ten years on a ship where he and his crew basically lived on top of each other, ten years of having people live and die on his command, and he’d been ready to be somewhere he was alone. Ready to be somewhere his most significant decision was what to have for breakfast.

 

There had been a part of him that believed he would head back into space someday. Maybe not necessarily with Starfleet, but there were lots of people eager to hire a Starfleet captain. Or he could continue his work with New Vulcan, he’d been offered the chance to return to many of the planets he had encountered in his travels. Not all of them had tried to kill him.

 

But he’d come to Georgia, Kevin’s voice in his head, in his dreams, hoping to find an absolution that shouldn’t have been possible. But he had found it. In Leonard McCoy. He could still feel the weight of his hand on the back of Jim’s neck, could hear when Bones had told him he wasn’t responsible and the relief that came with believing it for the first time.

 

It shouldn’t have been that way. Spock, T’Pring, Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov had all told him similar things. So why did it mean so much more coming from a man he barely knew? Why couldn’t he just shrug off the fact that Leo was unavailable?

 

Really, why was he still in Georgia? He was thirty-two years old – far too young to spend the rest of his life in the countryside, doing nothing particularly useful. He should be looking over the many offers he received more seriously, choosing one. Or he should be on New Vulcan, overseeing the improvements directly, arguing with the Council in person rather than via the older Spock and comms. Or he should give in to Pike and return to Starfleet. He should be anywhere but here, sulking over an affair he never had.

 

Well, he wasn’t going to do so anymore.

 

 

***

 

 

The next day Jim went for a ride while Gaila took Hallie shopping in Atlanta for something to wear to the McCoy’s annual Midsummer Night’s Garden Party. There was an unofficial dress code of predominantly white and while Gaila had brought three different dress options, she had been horrified when Jim said he was just going to wear his black pants and a white dress shirt.

“You might as well look like a waiter!” Gaila had cried.

 

At Jim’s careless shrug she had demanded the keys to his hovercar, called Hallie, and swept out of the house, muttering things in Orion under her breath. Jim had tucked Mason and Dixon, the names he’d eventually settled on, into their bed in the laundry room (the only place he could put them without them destroying something) with food, water, and toys, and headed for the stables.

 

He’d gotten another comm from Pike, offering him a promotion to Admiral, which normally Jim wouldn’t have entertained but Pike had also thrown in he could remain in partial retirement, working with the Tactical Planning division in San Francisco for eight months, maybe teaching a class or two at the Academy, and having four months to spend in Georgia. It was tempting, very tempting. So tempting Jim had basically decided on it.

 

Jim had grown to love Georgia and this was a way where he could keep part of it, but remove himself from the disaster-in-waiting that was Leonard McCoy. Because despite everything Leo had said, if Jim stayed they wouldn’t be able to stay away from each other. Not many people said ‘goodbye’ with a hand job. At least, not people who actually meant the ‘goodbye’.

 

Of course, it was best not to think of Leo’s hand on his cock as an erection on horseback was never a wise idea. It was best to simply concentrate on enjoying this ride and beginning to consider the more technical and logistical aspects of returning to Starfleet.

 

He’d have to buy a place in San Francisco, but he’d let Chekov handle his credits the entire time on the Enterprise and the little mathematical genius had ensured that Jim wouldn’t worry about credits anytime soon. Plus, people were always offering him an insane amount of credits to speak at their corporate gatherings and while Jim had never accepted, he could always do a couple and get a down payment. An admiral’s salary, even a partially retired one, was significant enough that Jim wouldn’t have to worry about living expenses.

 

An hour passed before Jim managed to pull himself out of the early planning stages. Boadicea was maintaining a steady walk but she would no doubt enjoy a rest where she could get some water and nibble at the sweet Georgian grass.

 

Jim pulled into a copse off the trail and Boadicea gave a whinny of pleasure at the small brook and sweet grass nestled under a weeping willow. Jim dismounted, wrapped the reins around the saddle horn, and gave her a light pat on her flank sending her to the brook.

 

Jim settled against the willow, crossing his legs out in front of him. Weeping willows were possibly Jim’s favorite tree to nap under. He felt warmly enclosed by them, liked to watch the sunlight dapple through their draping branches. Stacking his hands behind his head, he gazed up at the clear sky and let his mind slowly shut down, enjoying the sweet scent of a light breeze and the warmth sinking into him.

 

On the verge of slipping into a nap, Jim didn’t hear anyone approaching until Boadicea gave a greeting neigh. Jim opened his eyes to find Bones sitting astride Max, clearly trying to decide whether to pretend like he hadn’t seem Jim and just move on.

 

Jim stayed quiet, not encouraging or discouraging either way. After a long moment of the two men staring at each other, Max began shifting anxiously and Leo finally dismounted, letting him join Boadicea.

 

 _He looks . . . fucking hot_ , Jim thought with an inward sigh. He was in jeans and a western-style shirt, the kind that had snaps rather than buttons. Jim tried not to think about how much easier it would be to take off that kind of shirt.

 

Leonard walked slowly towards him, ducking underneath the branches and shoving his hands into his pockets. Jim shifted himself into a sitting position so he had a better chance of not just staring up at his crotch. Yeah, not so much success there.

 

Neither had spoken yet and Jim finally offered his trademark smirk, “I promise not to bite.”

 

The smirk only grew when Bones flushed and shifted uneasily. “Unless you want me to.”

 

At that Jim was shot an annoyed look and he lifted his hands, “Joking, Bones. Take a seat.”

 

Bones settled to Jim’s side and leaned against the trunk, stiffening but not moving when his shoulder brushed Jim’s, “How’s the leg?”

 

A medical question. How completely unsurprising. “Fine, all fixed. Your Ms. Rand is a dictator and had me mostly healed within four months. Now I just go for monthly evaluations.” Jim snorted, “We could have used her on the Enterprise. Spock would approve of her efficiency.”

 

Silence descended again, heavy and uncomfortable, made more awkward by the light and sunny weather. Finally, Jim broke the silence with a sardonic and rather inappropriate, “So how’s the missus?”

 

Bones shot him a vicious look for that and Jim rolled his eyes. He’d decided late last night that he wasn’t going to feel guilty anymore. He wanted Leonard McCoy and given the chance, Jim knew himself well enough to know that he’d take him, married not. No point in feeling guilty after that. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You know I like Jocelyn. I just . . . dammit, I don’t know how to sit here and pretend like I haven’t had my tongue down your throat or your hand on my cock.

 

“And I’m fucking tired of feeling guilty and twitchy anytime someone mentions your or Jocelyn’s name.”

 

Jim felt more than saw the flinch and finally Leo spoke, “She’s good. Her case is winding down and it looks like the judge’ll rule in her favor.”

 

Jim nearly snorted when silence fell again. In the months since he’d met Leonard McCoy, they had never endured such awkward silences. Talking, or bickering, came easily to them. Or used to.

 

It was Leo’s voice that broke the silence again with a quietly muttered, “And it isn’t you who should feel guilty.”

 

The levels of fucked-up his life had become was almost unreal. Christ, he’d survived kidnappings, the occasional torture, imprisonment, near death via Klingon or Romulan birds of prey, had nearly been overrun with tribbles, had survived Spock in pon farr, and nearly been burned at the stake _twice_. But that seemed like fucking shore leave in comparison. Going back to Starfleet was the right decision.

 

“Besides, eventually you’ll find someone new to concentrate on and then this will all be some two-minute memory.” Leo’s voice was dry but gravelly.

 

Closing his eyes and resting his head back against the willow, Jim first tried to convince himself that this was his life and then to hold back his laughter. He managed for about sixty seconds before it escaped and he was laughing helplessly. Leo turned to look at him, scowling and with an eyebrow raised.

 

Still laughing, Jim reached up and ran a finger over the brow, pushing it back, “Not the eyebrow of doom. Anything but that.”

 

“Something funny?”

 

“God, Bones, everything about this is funny—at least in the ridiculous sense. It’s all a little overdramatic, don’t you think? I mean, all this unresolved sexual tension, the little snipes, the avoiding each other, the guilt and shame? I mean we aren’t actually in a soap opera. You’re one of the premier surgeons in the Federation and I’m gonna be a fucking Admiral. So we’re attracted to each other. So what? You’re married. It ends, mostly, with that. Let’s not be all postmodernist about it, wallowing in the fucked-up-ness of our lives.” Jim was grinning at the end, inviting Leo to share in the mirth. It didn’t negate the more complicated feelings, but Jim was too realistic to wallow in them.

 

Life sucked. Move on.

 

A twitch pulled at Leo’s mouth and hazel eyes were more willing to meet Jim’s own, “Admiral, huh? You accepted Pike’s offer?”

 

“You know about the offer?” Jim couldn’t contain his surprise.

 

At this, Leo rolled his eyes, “That damn admiral of yours keeps calling my mama. Pestering her, generally making a nuisance of himself. Did you know he practically _invited_ himself over for the party? And Mama’s putting him up to boot!”

 

Laughter escaped Jim before he could contain it. The annoyance Leo felt about the whole thing was apparent, his drawl deepening with every growl. The scowl was back on his face, and he was quite viciously plucking grass from the ground. Jim patted the hand of vengeance, “Invited himself over, did he? Well, I can’t imagine Eleanora offering her house out of duress. Are you sure _she_ considers him a nuisance? Seems like they’re pretty cozy to me.”

 

Leo’s scowl deepened as he muttered, “Too damn cozy.”

 

Jim refrained from laughing again and just patted his shoulder, “Don’t worry, Bones. If Pike steps out of line, I’m more than confident Eleanora could swiftly, and without mercy, put him back in his place.”

 

Slightly cheered by that thought, Leo’s shoulders straightened, “So you are taking his offer?”

 

Jim nodded, his eyes dropping a bit, “Seems likely. Can’t hide out here forever. Slowly going insane from the inactivity.”

 

“That gonna be hard for you? Being in Starfleet but not having a ship?”

 

It shouldn’t surprise Jim that Leo knew being grounded was still difficult for Jim. Everyone else, including most of his crew, seemed to assume he had adjusted. “Yeah, kinda. But I wouldn’t want to fly without Spock and Command seems bound and determined that it’s an impossible thing I’m asking for. Besides, Spock’s settled on New Vulcan now, enjoys his work, has set up his house. I couldn’t ask him to come back.”

 

“Would he, though, if you could?”

 

“Yeah,” Jim answered with a grin, completely confident in his answer. “Yeah, he would. But maybe space exploration is best left to the young.”

 

“You’re thirty-two,” Leo reminded him dryly and causing Jim to laugh when he rolled his eyes. “Hardly ancient.”

 

Jim shrugged a shoulder, “No, but nothing else would feel like home like the Enterprise. Having the flagship spoils you, you know. But she’s due for a complete refit and they’re talking about rebuilding her completely. It’s at least fifteen years if they do that. She took about twenty to build in the first place. That puts me at forty-seven, minimum. And then I’m taking her away from some kid looking for his shot.”

 

“You really think they’ll give command of the flagship to some kid when they have the Federation’s hero on standby?”

 

“I’m not a hero. Yeah, they can say those things and insist on calling me that . . . but I was just a kid, a kid who was scared and too stupid to show it. So I ignored everything I didn’t agree with and just pushed and pushed until either the Narada was going down or we were.”

 

“And it worked.”

 

“Never said I wasn’t lucky, Bones,” Jim replied with a small smile that stretched into a grin with Leo laughed.

 

“Either way, I don’t think I’ll be taking the Enterprise out again. So Pike’s offer isn’t a bad one. I like tactical planning; it deals directly with the fleet part of Starfleet and less with the political bullshit. And I’d still be travelling every now and then, looking over the fleet, checking battle maneuvers in the field, things like that. Plus, I get four months off every year. Hard to beat that.”

 

Leo was quiet for a moment before looking at Jim, “I would have thought tactical planning would be right in the middle of the bullshit.”

 

Jim laughed and shrugged, “Part of the division, sure. Looking at diplomatic missions, where they fall in the Federation, looking at planets we would like to cultivate for membership, things like that. I would be doing military planning. Battle plans, should they become needed. Though it seems to be more ‘when’ than ‘should’ these days. And if there is a war, which I hope there isn’t, but if there is one, I would sign-up again. Probably get shoved onto a ship in that case, anyway.”

 

“So you’re moving back to San Francisco. When?”

 

“Probably August, get settled before the new Academy term starts. Pike probably plans on making me teach a couple of classes. But I’ll have to head to New Vulcan before then, look at some stuff I was working on for them. Some family is coming in at the beginning of July and staying for a few days, but I’ll probably head out shortly after. Mid July most likely.”

 

Leo just nodded and both men were highly aware of the heavy silence. While the awkwardness had eased, the both could still feel the weight of the silence between them, filled with silenced words, stifled touches. Jim turned to Leo and shrugged, “So soon we won’t have to worry about this. I’ll be in San Francisco, only back for visits. And you’ll be here, just as happily married as ever.”

 

Jim pushed to his feet and missed Leo grimacing at that. Holding out a hand, Jim pulled Leo up, “We should both be getting on home. No doubt Gaila has returned from shopping and is cursing my disappearance, and I’m sure you have preparations to help with.”

 

Leo shrugged and didn’t let go of Jim’s forearm, “It’s best if I stay out of the way, actually. The last year I tried to help, Jocelyn threw flowers at me when I asked why she was putting weeds on the tables.”

 

Jim’s blue eyes sparkled in humor at that image and watched as Leo’s own mouth curved into a half smile. They held onto each other for a moment longer before Jim moved his arm back, “So, I guess I’ll see you around.”

 

Leo only nodded and Jim clapped him on the shoulder and began to move towards Boadicea. He was almost at the horse when he heard Leo’s voice, almost indiscernible, “You think in another life we managed to be friends?”

 

It surprised Jim, such a question coming from Leonard McCoy. And Jim, who’d dealt with more alternate universes than any one person should, merely shrugged. He’d learned that it was best not to dwell too much on those universes. Best to focus on the one you got. So he shot a smile in Leo’s direction, “Bones, I don’t think there’s a universe in existence where I wouldn’t want in your pants. But maybe in another one, we managed to be friends as well.”

 

He had only managed to take a couple of steps forward when he felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder. Jim froze for a moment and shut his eyes. There was a brief moment where those _should_ thoughts came into his head. He should walk away. He should say no, if only for Leo’s sake. But Jim had never followed shoulds.

 

So he turned quickly, stepping into Leo’s body space and brought his hands to Leo’s face, running over scruff that would no doubt be shaved before this evening. He met Leo’s hazel eyes, slightly green today, evenly. He could read the hesitation, the knowledge that this was wrong, the helpless desire. Jim leaned in slowly and whispered against his lips, “Just so you know, I’m not gonna feel guilty about this anymore. I’ll take what I can get of you.”

 

And with that, he crushed Leo’s mouth beneath his, thrilling at the resulting groan. Leo’s hands clenched around Jim’s arms, hovering between holding him and pushing him away. Not that Jim actually let him choose.

 

A few minutes later, Leo was panting, eyes closed, still clutching those arms, as Jim sucked kisses over his neck and onto his chest, bared by Jim popping open a couple of buttons. Another hand was on his waist, kneading into muscles, holding Leo still. While he never lingered long enough to actually bruise, red marks appeared against golden skin and when Jim pulled back, the sight of them pleased him. In fact, there was little of Leo’s appearance that didn’t please him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his lips swollen, his shirt gapped, thoroughly aroused and mussed.

 

Jim smiled, pleased. He pressed one quick kiss to that mouth, nipping one, then soothing with his tongue, before pulling away.  “Hey, Bones?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

It was murmured, more than a little dazed, causing Jim to smile. It deserved another kiss. Indulging himself for a couple of minutes, Jim finally pulled away and whispered, “That happily married status change, at any point, you come find me.”

 

And before Leo could object, Jim covered his mouth again, plundering at will until Bones sagged against Jim. Jim held him, savoring the feel for a moment longer, before brushing a kiss against his temple, “I’ll see you tonight, Bones.”

 

 

***

 

“Turn.”

 

“Gaila, it’s . . .”

 

“Turn!”

 

Jim turned, presenting his backside for her review. Small, clever hands ran over his frame, straightening his suit jacket. A smile touched his mouth as he felt small hands very assiduously straightening his pants, running over his ass and around his hips. “Uh Gaila?”

 

“Hmm, very nice. I chose well.”

 

“It’s a blue suit. A pastel blue suit with a white shirt. I’m wearing baby blue.”

 

“It’s more like an ice blue mixed with a delicate ivory.”

 

“I don’t even know what those words mean.”

 

Gaila’s periwinkle eyes rolled, “It makes your eyes stand out. And you look hot.”

 

“It’s a little tight.”

 

A snort was his response. That and a sarcastic, “Says the man who purposefully ordered his pants a size to small.”

 

Jim turned and smirked, “That’s just how I fill out my pants, gorgeous.”

 

“And I would believe that if they hadn’t been so loose on your legs. You have chicken legs.”

 

“I do not,” Jim exclaimed, lifting up his pants leg and staring at a calf, “have chicken legs!”

 

Lips painted gold pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Aww, sweetie, you know I love your chicken legs. Now, I have to go get dressed. Wait for me downstairs, please. And _don’t_ get mussed, wrinkled, dirty, or torn. You have a knack, you know.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

 

Making his way downstairs, Jim leaned against the door and patiently waited, cheerfully reliving his afternoon with Bones. He preferred the non-sulking method. It didn’t make him feel any better about the situation, but he felt less twelve-year old girlish about it. More captain-like. Jim smirked inwardly. Maybe after getting through tonight he could graduate to admiral-like.

 

His attention was drawn to Gaila at the top of the stairs, dressed as an Orion version of a Greek goddess. Her curls were pulled up loosely, golden threads running through the red, with purple orchid tucked in. Those orchids were echoed over her left shoulder, the only strap to a white gown that hugged her torso tightly before flowing down from her hips, and ending at dainty green toes, peeking out the hem.

 

She turned gracefully and arched a brow, awaiting his response. Jim straightened, walked to the stairs, and offered his most charming grin, “You look beautiful.”

 

Gaila gave a smile of her own, “Of course I do. We make a stunning couple.”

 

She descended the stairs and Jim got a whiff of her pheromones and felt his cock twitch and his eyes dilate. “Did you take your suppressants this afternoon?”

 

Gaila stopped in front of him, surprised, “Jim, it is a pagan ceremony. The celebration of midsummer is a time of feast, of fire, of dancing and singing. It is a time in which we celebrate The Sun King grown, embracing the Queen of Summer in love, before seeking death and renewing the cycle of life. I have researched this most thoroughly. Suppressing my pheromones would be counterproductive to the spirit of this festival.”

 

Jim’s eyes had gradually gotten wider as she spoke and now his mouth was twitching, “Gaila, are you under the impression we are going to an orgy?”

 

“Of course. In fact, I ensured my dress would only have a single zip, to facilitate the evening.”

 

Jim tried not to laugh. Really tried not to laugh. What came out was warbled, “Gaila, this is just a garden party. Terrans, well at least not Terrans on this continent, don’t celebrate this festival how the ancient pagan worshippers would. There’ll be food, sure, but I think we can count out the singing and sex. Think of it more like a ball, but outside.”

 

Yup. That got her pouting. Her lower lip was stuck out and her eyes were glittering dangerously. “Why would Terrans insist on celebrating a holiday but purposefully celebrate incorrectly? Are they being insulting to the originating culture? I do not understand.”

 

Jim tucked her underneath his arm and patted her shoulder, “No, not intentionally insulting. It is just that as time passed, the more . . . controversial aspects were weeded out.”

 

Gaila sighed, visibly disappointed. She stomped over to the kitchen, muttering something Jim chose not to translate from its Orion, and soon came back out. “There, I have taken my pill. I shall still attend, as I do not wish to offend Eleanora, but you can be sure I shall instruct her in the ritualistic celebration of the summer solstice. You know we have similar customs on Orion, where we celebrate the passing of the seasons _properly_.”

 

Jim just nodded and escorted her out the door, still muttering angrily. When she was settled in the car, she turned to Jim with a wicked smile, good humor nearly restored, “You know, had you not had me take my pill, I am sure I could have created the correct atmosphere.”

 

Leaning over, he brushed a kiss against her shoulder, “I have no doubt of that, gorgeous, no doubt at all.”

 

 

***

 

 

It was likely, Jim mused two hours later, that Gaila could accomplish the “correct atmosphere” without the full strength of her pheromones. She was holding court across from Jim, a throng of adoring admirers around her that weren’t only confined to men. There were more than a few younger women clustered around, gazing dazedly at the vibrant Orion. Jim was fairly sure he was going home alone tonight.

 

A pat on his arm returned his attention to the woman he had, surprisingly, kept company for most of the evening, “You seem distracted. Have you and Gaila had a falling out? Is that why she’s, ah, gathered so many admirers?”

 

Jim ran his eyes appreciatively over the petite golden beauty at his elbow and smiled, “No, Gaila and I aren’t exclusively together. She is free to gather as many admirers as she likes.”

 

Jocelyn gave him an embarrassed smile and blushed charmingly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply . . . Well, I just shouldn’t have assumed.”

 

Shrugging, Jim began to lead her to the dance floor, “Nothing to apologize for. A lot of people don’t necessarily understand my relationship with Gaila. But it works for us. Has for a long time.”

 

He swept Jocelyn onto the dance floor and she fit comfortably into his frame. Jim felt a small frisson of awareness run through him and was mildly surprised. He had been so focused on Leo, he had rather forgotten about Jocelyn’s own considerable charms.

 

She smiled up at him, “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Do you find it . . . difficult . . . to share her? I mean, does it bother you that there are others she wants?”

 

Jim who’d had this conversation more than once, merely shrugged, “There are others I want. It isn’t about sharing her. She’s her own person; she makes her own decisions, as do I. We decided when we met that we wouldn’t be exclusive. It’s not in Gaila’s nature and certainly wasn’t in mine at the time. And Starfleet makes relationships difficult. We love each other, but we define it differently.

 

“And trust me, from all that I’ve seen, our arrangement isn’t _nearly_ the most difficult or complicated one out there. On one world I visited, the king and queen were allied from birth, raised together, wed, but kept a platonic relationship and maintained their own harems, which their spouse chose for them. _That_ seemed complicated.”

 

Jocelyn laughed at this, as she was meant to, but there was something distant in her eyes. Something that was distracting her. “But you love each other?”

 

Jim was more solemn as he answered, sensing the answer was somehow important, “Love is however you choose to define it. I love Gaila, I want her to be happy, I can be this for her, and so I am. I would never ask that she change who she is for me. Just as she would never ask me.”

 

Jocelyn nodded and was quiet for a moment. Finally, she pasted a bright smile on and joked, “Well, I wish you luck explaining that to any future Mrs. Kirk. Gaila would make any woman insane with jealousy.”

 

As he was about to reply, they were interrupted by Leo, who placed a hand on Jocelyn’s back, “Honey, the hospital just called. There was a pretty bad accident and they could use an extra pair of hands.”

 

Jocelyn turned, clearly dismayed, “Oh, Leo! You always make sure you have the night off!”

 

A regretful touched Leo’s mouth, “I know, honey, but a flu swept through the surgical staff this week and we’re down a couple of surgeons and a few nurses. They sure could use me. I even agreed to be beamed over.”

 

The resigned sigh of a surgeon’s wife sounded but after a moment Jocelyn summoned up a smile and a kiss for her husband, “Well, if you aren’t objecting to being beamed, they must certainly need you. I’ll walk over to the main house with you.

 

Leo nodded, brushed a brief kiss against her cheek, and gave Jim a short nod, avoiding his eyes. Jocelyn excused herself from Jim to walk Leo over to the transporter pad his father had installed, and Jim found himself watching the couple walking away, hands clasped together.

 

His view was cut off by Pike and Eleanora swirling around him, Pike calling, “Deserted?”

 

Jim rolled his eyes at the lovely couple, still jealous of the fact that Pike had gotten to wear his dress whites. Jim _loved_ his dress whites. They were the only set of dress uniforms he did like. He always went home with someone spectacular when wearing the whites.

 

Trying not to pout again, afraid Gaila would see and scold him again, Jim shoved his hands in his pockets and moved off the dance floor. He was immediately joined by a lovely brunette he had spotted earlier and with a wink, escorted her back out onto the dance floor.

 

Three dances and a phone number in his pocket later, Jocelyn waved him over from the bar and Jim grabbed two glasses of champagne before heading back. He handed her the flute and for a moment they stood quietly, enjoying the sultry breeze in the air, the buzz of laughter and conversation around them, the lovely sound of the string quartet playing for the dancers. Jim was just about to ask her for another dance, when she turned to him, eyes serious, “Jim, do you have any plans next week?”

 

Surprised by the question, he slowly shook his head, “No, just preparing for some family coming in on the fourth. Why?”

 

Jocelyn took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and nodded, as if something were decided. When she turned to him there was a smile there Jim couldn’t quite read, “Would you meet me for drinks Friday evening? I’m in court that day but should be able to meet you in town at around nine? At the bar in The Plaza, across from Leo’s hospital?”

 

Puzzled, but with no reason to refuse, Jim simply nodded. Maybe Leo would come.

 

 


	6. The Path to Hell is Paved

 

Jim hadn’t actually spent the following days wondering about the admittedly odd request for drinks with Jocelyn. No, instead, he spent the time panicking about Spock and T’Pring’s arrival. While he had been looking forward to the visit, okay, anticipating it like he had getting his driver’s license (weekly phone calls with Spock were _so_ not the same), that had been before his mother called. She’d decided the 4 th of July was a fine time to visit, and was bringing Sam, Aurelian, and their heathen children with them. Which had been fine . . . fine-ish . . . before Jim had gotten a comm from Uhura saying that she and Scotty would be on planet for a few days from the third to the sixth and would he mind hosting them. Except it hadn’t been a question. And he was missing her and Scotty too much to refuse.

 

So now he was hosting a crap load of people and didn’t have enough space to put them all in. He had never thought his three extra rooms would be insufficient but it seemed like he was to have a full house.

 

And though he loved his family dearly, biological and Enterprise, he really had been looking forward to his time with Spock and T’Pring. And now he was gonna have to _share_. Jim spent a good day pouting about that before giving up and beginning to work out the logistics of where everyone was going to sleep, ordering a collapsible set of bunk beds for the kids that he could put in the room he was assigning Sam and Aurelian (and he took no small amount of satisfaction that his brother wouldn’t be getting any as a result), more pillows (to replace those massacred by Mason and Dixon) and a rollaway bed for the library, where he would be sleeping through all of this. He figured Spock and T’Pring would have his room -- he really didn’t want to imagine the horror of having Spock share a bathroom with his heathen nephews -- Sam and Aurelian on the other end of the house, and his mom and Scotty and Uhura sandwiched between.

 

 

Logistics taken care of, he turned to the nightmare that was preparing to feed all of these people. Immediately becoming overwhelmed by such a possibility, he deserted those plans and simply called the restaurants in town and let them know he would be having a large group following him around and could they please forgive him for anything his nephews broke (which he would pay for and charge Sam interest), and warn that his mother didn’t have a brain-to-mouth filter and so she didn’t mean to be offensive.

 

And that wasn’t a quality Jim was familiar with on a personal level at all.

 

Of course, he had forgotten to mention that two of his party were vegetarians which caused another set of phone calls, which necessitated explaining that they were not _liberals_ but Vulcans. This caused no small amount of consternation, which really shouldn’t have surprised Jim. After all, it’s not like Georgia had ever been overrun with Vulcans, even before the Narada wrought its genocide. Since, any sighting of a Vulcan off New Vulcan was unfortunately rare and in the ten years that had passed the Vulcan mystique had grown even larger. Jim was suddenly inundated with ‘casual’ calls from the town, ‘just callin to chat’ with that chat always coming around to the imminent arrival of ‘his’ Vulcans.

 

Jim took the opportunity to give the town a brief run down on proper manners, trusting the gossip network would spread it through Madison in little time—mainly focusing on _don’t touch them_! Seemed best to keep it simple.

 

And while he had been dreading the call to Trudy McAllister, it turned out she was his godsend. She took the vegetarian requirement as a challenge to her culinary skills and began experimenting with _Vulcan-inspired_ dishes, the ones that wouldn’t kill Jim being sent to him to taste test. To him they tasted great. Vaguely reminiscent of what he’d had on Vulcan the couple of time he visited with Spock, less flavorful that Terran cuisine but not as bland as what they achieved on Vulcan. He couldn’t help but be impressed and promised himself he would never speak another bad word about Mrs. McAllister ever again.

 

With things mostly taken care of and Spock sending a confirmation of their arrival, Jim could finally focus on the holy terrors that were his puppies. Their destructive capabilities were only outmatched by their ability to be absolutely adorable immediately afterwards. Jim should have been immune, having employed the very same technique as a child, but he just couldn’t bring himself to discipline them. Plus, they had mostly gotten the hang of potty training, giving cute little yaps at the back door when they needed out.

 

As a result, Jim spent most of his time outdoors with them. Throwing sticks, going for walks, getting them acquainted with Boadicea who was _not_ charmed by them at all, taking them to shallow parts of the creek so they could splash to their little hearts content. This resulted in less pillow carnage as he exhausted them so that they basically collapsed onto the bed at night. It was a fine plan while he was still in Georgia, but Jim worried about the move to San Francisco and vowed not to leave any pillows within reach in the apartment. Maybe Admiral Archer could give him some training tips.

 

By the time Friday came along, Jim was exhausted himself and seriously considering asking Jocelyn for a rain check. It was only the realization that he’d already asked Hallie to puppy sit and that he wanted to spend a Friday evening asleep on the couch instead of with a gorgeous woman that shoved him in to the shower. He was retired. Not old.

 

Besides, this whole thing was more than a little curious. Why the meeting in town when she could have just come by? Was Bones gonna be there? Was Jim wrong in assuming she didn’t know about he and Bones and she was planning on hiding his body after killing him? Curious.

 

 

***

 

An hour later he was walking into the hotel bar, quickly glancing over the room before finally spotting Jocelyn at a dark little table towards the back wall.

 

As he began to negotiate the maze he ignored the whispers, but occasionally shook hands with someone if they asked. This was, unfortunately, something he’d had to become accustomed to, but was also the reason he had always preferred life on his ship. It just seemed wrong to gain this kind of attention for his actions. Jim was all too aware that the successes the Enterprise had was due to the team on the Enterprise and they had never come without a cost. A cost usually measured in lives. Jim would never feel comfortable with accepting praise when he knew the cost it came with.

 

Finally able to make his way to Jocelyn, he smiled at the lovely woman before him and brushed a kiss against her cheek, “Sorry about that.”

 

Jocelyn murmured the apology away and Jim was aware of her intent eyes as a waiter silently appeared and took his order. Jim politely asked after her case while he waited for his drink, seeing the nerves in the tightness of mouth, the stiffness is usually expressive fingers. His curiosity increased.

 

When he had his drink and the requisite niceties observed, Kirk caught her eyes with his and slightly tilted his head, “So.”

 

Jim watched with narrowed eyes as she smiled and carefully exhaled a breath, “I have an offer, Jim. A rather personal offer.”

 

It took all of Jim’s control to maintain his smile. “Oh?”

 

The blond straightened her shoulders and Jim glanced over her, for the first time really taking in what she was wearing. Her neckline was nonexistent, plunging down, revealing generous curves and beautiful shoulders. The dress was hardly in Jocelyn’s more conservative style and Jim took this as further proof of just what kind of offer this would be. He tried to reign in his hypocritical concern for Bones.

 

He watched as she slid a key across the table, “I would like you to come upstairs with me.”

 

Something dark and vicious swirled through Jim. It wasn’t the first time he had been propositioned by a married woman, wasn’t the first time he’d had hotel keys thrust at him. He just never thought Jocelyn McCoy would be one of those women. He had watched her with Bones for months. She loved him. So what exactly was this all about?

 

Jim fingered the key, keeping his eyes trained on her, “And what about your husband? The estimable Dr. Leonard McCoy?”

 

She fidgeted under Jim’s gaze and those nerves rose again. Jim watched as she took a careful breath, tense, “Will be joining us shortly.”

 

Jim’s fingers faltered in their tracing of the key and he fought to contain his reaction. _Fuck_. This was . . . unexpected. A million things were sliding through him mind, but the only thought Jim could hang onto was _Bones_.

 

He had never even imagined that this would be something that could happen. In fact, he couldn’t imagine a couple less likely for a threesome than this one . . . unless it was Scotty and Uhura.

 

And it wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to Jocelyn. He was in general, hell, anyone would be, but this was . . . yeah, he had no words for just how _weird_ this was. Clearly she had picked up on the attraction between her husband and Jim, but it was also evident Jocelyn had no real idea just how much had occurred between them, which made taking her offer feel dishonest.

 

On the other hand, Bones.

 

And Bones agreed to this. And it was that thought, more than anything else, which had Jim shooting her a smile and palming the key. This was weird, unexpected, and almost certainly only this one night. Yeah, Jim was gonna take whatever was offered.

 

Jim ran an experienced eye over Jocelyn, catching not only her nerves but her arousal as well, and grinned suddenly. He felt his last hesitation leave and quickly ran his credit chip over the scanner and was helping Jocelyn out of her seat.  At the feel of silky skin under his fingertips, the sheer softness that was unique to the female half of the species, Jim allowed himself to concentrate on Jocelyn.

 

He would make this so good for both of them they would be sure to want more than one night.

 

***

 

Leo heaved a sigh at the comm from Jocelyn telling him she was at the hotel and finished his drink. It was his fourth of the evening, having long since finished working. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, he did. Things had been a bit off between them since the Midsummer party and a night together was a good idea. Leo just didn’t understand why it had to be in a hotel when they had a perfectly good, much _cleaner_ house to themselves. Leo hated sleeping in hotel beds. God only knows how clean the linens were, if they were cleaned at all.

 

Packing up his bag with charts he needed to look over on the weekend and some early research on a virulent new strain of the Andorian flu he wanted to look at, Leo made his way out of the hospital and to the hotel across the street. At least it was a familiar hotel, Leo having crashed there more than once when he hadn’t been able to leave the hospital for more than a couple hours at a time.

 

He followed Jocelyn’s directions up to the room and knocked briefly. His brows shot up at the breathy “Enter _”_ that came and stepped through the opening door.

 

 _Wha_ . . . _WHAT THE FUCK_ . . .

 

Brain stuttering in inability to comprehend or produce thought, his bag dropping out of boneless fingers, Leo could only goggle at the sight in front of him, trying to catch his breath as pure rage and a dark wave of hurt rushed through him.

 

“What the fuck is this?” Leo demanded, voice thick with shock, fingers twitching with nearly tangible anger. Jim, _his_ Jim, was on his knees, face buried between his _wife’s_ legs, one slim thigh hiked up over his shoulder.

 

Jocelyn was naked, pushed against a wall, flushed and panting softly, hands tangled in Jim’s hair, nipples pebbled, clearly on the verge of an orgasm when Leo came in. Jim wasn’t much better, shirt undone, pants unzipped to accommodate the bulge trying to escape. Leo felt a wave of arousal at the sight of him conflict with the urge to rip his fucking head off.

 

At the sound of his voice, both head snapped to him, Jocelyn in concern, Jim in confusion. Leo’s eyes narrowed as Jocelyn detangled herself and hurried to him, watching Jim shoot to his feet and send his wife a glare. “He seems surprised, Jocelyn.”

 

“ _Surprised_?!” Leo stuttered back, voice rising to a fair yell, “Are you fucking kidding me? Surprised is only the beginning of what I am!”

 

His hands clenched into fists and his gaze shot between Jocelyn and Jim, not sure who he wanted to hurt more. _What the fuck was happening?? Did Jim, rejected by Leo, decide to seduce Jocelyn out of revenge? But if that’s what happened, then why the fuck would she tell him to come in?_

 

Jocelyn moved more slowly towards him now and Leo couldn’t help but take in the beautiful form walking toward him. She was wearing only a skimpy little thong and her heels and Leo swallowed involuntarily. It had been a long time since he had seen her like this, this blatantly sexual. She reached for him and he backed away from her touch, his eyes going incredulously to Jim Kirk now lounging uneasily against the wall. “Leo,” Jocelyn softly whispered, “look at me.”

 

Leo turned his gaze to his wife, his eyes burning with conflicting hurt and lust. Jocelyn leaned in close and he forced himself not to push her away “Leo, this is for us. I brought him here for me . . . and for you.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Leo barked, unable to really believe this was real. His head was swimming with earlier drinks which he really shouldn’t have had and he couldn’t quite bring himself to focus enough to just shove her away and get the hell out of here.

 

Leo again forced himself still when her hand landed on his chest. She spoke quietly, quickly, “Things have been a little . . . routine lately. I thought maybe this way we could spice things up.”

 

Leo rolled his eyes at the cliché but he couldn’t help but look at Jim, partially in relief when he saw him meet Leo’s eyes evenly. He felt relief flood through him at this news. Jocelyn had planned this, wanted them both. And as much as that thought was confusing the anger slowly away, Leo couldn’t help but be grateful he hadn’t been betrayed. By either of them.

 

And yes, he was aware of the ridiculousness of that feeling. But God, Jim was in front of him, casually leaning against the wall but body tense with arousal, eyes shining with something indefinable, and locked onto Leo.

 

Leo swallowed thickly and felt Jocelyn move to his side, pressing her breasts against his chest, stretching up to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw, and whispered softly, “I saw you, Leo. Saw your hand on your gorgeous cock, saw you brace yourself against the bathroom sink, saw you fuck your fist, heard you cry out his name when you came. You want him. I know you do.

 

“We’re in trouble, Leo. Both of us bored, both of us working too much, both of us looking at someone else. Luckily for us, it’s the same someone else. So why not do this together? Have him together? Get it out of our systems, let us focus on _us_ again.”

 

Leo felt the world wash over him, brining panic and relief, _God, she saw him do that??? Which time???_

 

But she wasn’t angry. No, she wanted them all together. As some sort of marital aid?

 

And as bizarre as that seemed, Leo couldn’t take his eyes off Jim long enough to question or argue. Jim, that opportunistic bastard, sensed Leo’s hesitance and slowly stripped off his shirt, revealing an upper body Leo had felt but never seen. Leo blew out an unsteady breath and his fingertips twitched, as if preparing for the tactile experience of Jim.

 

Jocelyn, clearly aware of Leo’s arousal, walked around him and began undressing him, “When I ask him to join us, when I made it clear you would be here and participating, he didn’t even hesitate. He was eager even.”

 

Leo had no problem believing that, but was rendered incapable of speech when Jim slipped his pants off, leaving him in straining boxer briefs, running a hand over his stomach. Leo’s breath caught and then he groaned helplessly when that hand disappeared beneath the waist of the shorts, Leo watching hungrily as Kirk cupped himself underneath the material.

 

He barely registered Jocelyn moving her hands to Leo’s pants, whispering, “God, honey, look at that. Look how hard he is. Don’t you want that under you?”

 _Yes, yes, I really do_ , Leo thought dazedly. And had wanted it for far too long. He shoved his pants and underwear down without thought, took a step forward when Jim started stroking himself, teasing Leo with not being able to see what he knew was happening. With what he’d thought he couldn’t have.

 

It was that thought that jolted him into remembering Jocelyn and he flushed a bit as he turned to her. She was smiling at him and it caused a rush of love to go through Leo. He tangled his fingers with hers and Jocelyn tugged him forward, urging him towards Jim, “Go on, honey, go to him. I want to watch you with him first.”

 

Leo’s brain happily shut off in that moment. It was all movement and hurry.

 

Leo strode across the room, capturing that beautiful mouth beneath his, moving him to the bed, straddling and groaning with the pleasure of feeling Jim beneath him. He had pushed Jim’s underwear off on their way to the room, needing the feel of his cock bare against Jim’s. They jerked together for long moments, Leo’s hand covering them, jerking them both off.

 

God, he needed inside _now_.

 

Lube suddenly appeared next to his hand, jolting Leo out of the haze of Jim, and hazel eyes gone gold with lust blearily focused on Jocelyn, who had at some point climbed onto the bed and gotten herself an optimal viewpoint.

 

Guilt rushed through Leo at ignoring her, and just as he went to reach for her, greedy hands reached up and brought Leo’s mouth back to his, kissing him deeply before declaring, “God, Bones, hurry up and fuck me. Need you in me.”

 

Leo nearly fucking came with that little moan and wasted no time slicking them both up and stretching Jim out just far enough he wouldn’t rip when Leo slammed into him. The moment he did, the moment his cock was buried into the dark warmth Leo craved, everything else ceased to exist.

 

Soft, ragged groans sounded, punctuating each thrust of Leo’s hips, lips devoured each other messily and wetly, panting, groaning, urging for _more, more, more_ until Leo couldn’t see. The input from his other senses, hearing the sounds of their bodies slapping together, the taste of Jim’s mouth, the feel of his cock fucking that tight little hole, was enough to overload Leo’s brain. And slamming unseeing eyes shut, grinding his hips ever deeper, Leo jerked on firm hips and came helplessly into Jim, punctuating each spurt of warmth with a deeper grind.

 

Jim, who had been working his own cock ceaselessly, came immediately after to Leo’s relief, slamming his hand against the bed, loosing a primal cry that made Leo shove deeply once more, burying his cock once more into warmth and wet. “ _Jim_ ,” was breathed soundlessly into Jim’s neck as Leo collapsed onto his side, gathering Jim’s lax body close into him.

 

Leo nearly purred in pleasure when Jim burrowed deeper, plastering himself into the curve of the larger man, tangling their legs together. Slowly, Leo’s eyes fluttered opened and managed to focus on the debauched sight beside him, cum splattered over Jim’s chest, leaking out from between his thighs.

 

Unable to resist the opportunity to taste, Leo leaned down and licked a come-covered nipple before reaching up and kissing Jim languidly, sighing when that clever tongue came to share in the taste of himself.

 

It was only when their breathing returned to normal that either man remembered Jocelyn, curled up above them and recovering herself, fingers still buried between her thighs. Both men reached up and pulled her between them, rearranging themselves so Leo was curled behind her and Jim facing her.

 

Leo ran soothing, increasingly guilty hands over his wife, the forgotten third of this particular threesome. Jim was pressing occasional kisses against her mouth, eventually murmuring something against her lips, snuggling in. Leo watched them fall asleep, trying to resist the creeping confusion about the situation he found himself in. He wanted to think, but couldn’t.

 

Instead, all he could do was stroke the wide, beautiful hand in his and with sleep coming to claim him, murmur, “Jim.”

 

***

 

Leo woke several hours later, eyes struggling open, slowly becoming aware of each ache and bruise marked into his body. Jim had woken them all a couple of times during the night.

 

The first time, Leo had been awoken to Jocelyn’s throaty moans, opening his eyes to see Jim with his face buried between her thighs once more, licking and sucking eagerly, fingers thrusting until Jocelyn was thrashing wildly beneath him.

 

He’d been unable to move as he watched, both fascinated and conflicted by the sight of Jim pleasing his wife. And for a moment he didn’t know whom he was more jealous of.

 

Such worries had immediately departed when Jim levered himself up and over Jocelyn, holding her thighs apart as he slid himself deeply, smoothly and effortlessly, holding still as she jerked and squirmed beneath him, adjusting to Jim’s cock. His mouth ran dry when Jim had begun thrusting and Jocelyn’s head tossed, her eyes suddenly finding him watching.

 

“Leo,” she had groaned softly, reaching a hand out to him.

 

Twining his hand with hers, he had pulled himself closer, offering her his mouth as Jim began driving her steadily towards orgasm. They exchanged long kisses, her fingers digging into his shoulder, panting his name even as Jim fucked her. When she came shortly after, Jim stayed still, letting her clench and flutter along his length, his fingers forming a tight ring around his base as he struggled not to come.

 

When he could finally slide free, Leo felt a hand caress the back of his neck, gently turning his mouth to face Jim, “Taste her, Bones, taste her on me.”

 

Leo had sucked Jim down, just opened his mouth and fucking impaled himself. Jim nearly bellowed, hands slamming down to his shoulders, steadying himself and Leo proceeded to throat fuck Jim into oblivion.

 

Long, hot spurts were coming across Leo’s tongue a few minutes later, Leo coming into his own hand at the same time.

 

 

The second time he’d been awakened had been by Jim’s groaning mouth, which, this time, was buried between Leo’s thighs, sucking him, working Leo’s cock until it was hard and throbbing. Jim released the throbbing flesh to Jocelyn, who’d immediately straddled Leo’s waist and taken him in deep, fucking them both into completion, both holding tightly to Jim who was plastered to Jocelyn’s back, his cock resting between the cheek of her ass.

 

Leo’s hands filled themselves with Jim’s hands, moving him in their rhythm, encouraging Jim to move with him, hazel eyes locked onto vivid blue. They all came close together, collapsing in a pile and falling asleep almost immediately.

 

So that when Leo woke again several hours later, he had to detangle himself from multiple limbs before he could slide from the bed and move to the bathroom.

 

He first washed his hands and face, looking into the mirror as his less-alcohol-fogged brain began to catalogue the multiple marks left on his body courtesy of Jim. He liked to suck marks into Leo’s neck, murmuring _Bones_ between breaths. And unlike before, he wasn’t content to stop with a little red. Even with the dermal regenerator, smudges would be visible for a couple of days.

 

His stomach clenched at the thought of the oncoming days. What would happen?

 

Would Jocelyn, content with this tryst, resume their marriage like nothing had happened? While a part of Leo endorsed this plan, another part, a wiser part, knew it wouldn’t work that way. Cause he’d tasted Jim now and wasn’t nearly sated. Fuck, if anything, it had only made it worse. Now he _knew_ how he felt and tasted, knew how he moaned, knew what he looked like coming in Leo’s arms.

 

He was like Icarus, who once he’d gotten a taste of flight, wasn’t able to stop until he met the sun and fell to his death. That’s what it felt like when he was with Jim. Flying to meet the sun. And even though he knew each trip would end with Leo being plummeted back to Earth, he couldn’t help but look at Jim and yearn for the next flight.

 

So what would happen if this is where it ended?

 

His marriage to Jocelyn was not something he could sacrifice. Sixteen years they’d been married. Leo could barely remember what it was like to _not_ be with her. And they had been talking about maybe having a family now that Jocelyn had gotten her partnership.

 

Leo was an old-fashioned man. He yearned for family the way a songbird yearns for dawn. When he’d proposed to Jocelyn, he’d already had a metal picture of the family they would have.

 

Henry and the possibility of Starfleet had almost interrupted that once, but it had ultimately been the idea of mini-McCoys running around that had persuaded Leo to stay and give his marriage another shot. He had never allowed himself to regret that decision. He was ready and he thought maybe Jocelyn was finally ready too.

 

But then where did that leave Jim? And Leo couldn’t count out Jim. Even with the man moving to San Francisco. Leo had just left the man in bed and even now his body ached for him, burned for him.

 

Christ, this was just a complete clusterfuck.

 

Even as Leo turned for the shower, the door cracked open and Jim slipped in, closing it silently so as not to wake Jocelyn. Locking it.

 

Leo swallowed and attempted to keep his eyes above the neck, not that those piercing eyes were any less dangerous to his control.

 

There was concern in those eyes now; concern and a knowing, accurately guessing Leo had started his recriminations. Leo’s eyes fluttered shut when strong hands traced his shoulders before cupping his jaw, placing a too gentle kiss against his lips, “Bones.”

 

Leo snorted, “Jim, we’ve fucked. I think you can call me by my name now.”

 

Blue eyes held his, oddly serious, as Jim shook his head slowly. He leaned up, brushing their lips together again, just holding Leo tightly against him, “No. Leo’s what everyone else calls you. When it’s you and me, you’re Bones. My Bones.”

 

Leo couldn’t protest the claiming kiss Jim laid against him, helplessly sinking into it, the part of his heart he’d hardened towards Jim melting just a bit. Christ, he was such a fucking sap.

 

Unable to stop himself, Leo’s hands snuck around Jim, tracing along his back and waist, sliding down to cup that perfect ass he hadn’t gotten enough of. Jim gave a breathy murmur, his cock making its interest know, causing Leo to bring Jim in even closer. “What are we doing, Jim?” Leo asked, even as his lips trailed down the man’s neck.

 

“God, Bones,” Jim breathed, holding on tightly even as his head fell back. “Fuck if I know. But don’t stop. Don’t let go.”

 

So Leo’s hands tightened until they were rubbing against each other so tightly not even a hand could fit between them. They were wrapped in each other, mouths tracing random patterns over each other’s faces and neck, hands stroking and kneading, the bathroom slowly filling with their sighs and heat.

 

Leo wasn’t aware of moving until Jim had managed to maneuver himself around so he was perched on the edge of the countertop, legs moving to wrap around Leo’s waist, bringing him in until Leo’s cock was nudging between Jim’s cheeks. “No lube,” Leo murmured before biting into Jim’s lower lip.

 

Tongues met and thrust playfully against each other, each man laughing softly as Jim’s arm began to flail to the side, knocking things over as he searched for something.

 

“Aha,” he cried softly, seizing the small bottle of lotion the hotel had provided. He slapped it into Leo’s hand and couldn’t help but kiss swollen lips once more, before whispering, “Need you. God, Bones, all night I’ve wanted you buried in me again. Need to you take me, fuck me, right now. Just us. Push into me, let me feel you.”

 

Jim was practically whining by the end and Leo felt his cock leaking more with each word. _Yes_ , he thought frantically, fumbling with the lotion. Leo needed to feel Jim again, needed to be deep so that if this were the only night, it would remain with them forever.

 

Before Jim could speak again and make Leo lose it before they even started, Leo pulled Jim off the counter top and pushed him onto the floor mat. Jim eagerly spread his thighs, pulling them up so Leo could kneel between them easily.

 

Barely remembering the earlier blur, Leo instead took his time. Squeezing lotion onto his palm, he gathered some on two fingers and delicately traced the line of the full cock resting against Jim’s belly, relishing the sight of the younger man breathing heavily, twitching with each touch of Leo’s fingers. Blue eyes were burning and swollen, pink lips were apart, a tongue coming out and licking hungrily.

 

Leo groaned at the sight and slid his fingers down the strong vein running along the bottom of Jim’s cock, tracing it to his balls, running down and rubbing at that sensitive spot just behind them, smiling when Jim jerked and cursed softly under his breath. Gathering more lotion, Leo finally traced his fingers further down, revealing the small hole that was already pink with use, slightly stretched, come splattered around it. Leo swallowed at the sight and couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and licking gently at it, cleaning gently, surprised and pleased when Jim flexed under his tongue and a little cum dribbled out onto his tongue.

 

A deep, possessive growl issued out of Leo at that, and he clamped a hand around his cock to choke down the urge to come. Jim still had Leo’s come deep inside him, must have kept his cheeks clenched tight for most of the night to hold it in.

 

Jim gasped when Leo buried his tongue deeper, forcing it inside Jim, licking frantically now, searching out more of his own come, licking and sucking it out until Jim was thrashing beneath him, curing and pleading in a litany that hardly made sense. When Leo finally sat back, Jim’s hands came around the back of his knees, pulling Leo’s hips close, “Please, please, please,” he chanted eagerly. “Please, Bones. Need your cock. Fuck me, Bones, please, I need to feel you.”

 

And this time he couldn’t resist. Smearing the lotion over his cock, Leo lined himself up between Jim’s thighs, slowly entering him inch by careful inch, watching as Jim flexed and arched, taking each inch beautifully. When Leo was seated fully, Jim’s eyes fluttered opened and Leo felt his breath shudder to a stop at the look in them.

 

Without thought a hand reach out and traced over Jim’s lips gently, sweetly. His voice was hoarse, filled with something Leo couldn’t name, “You’re so gorgeous like this. Fuck, you feel so good, darlin. So good.”

 

Jim shuddered until the fall of the words and simply arched up, urging Leo to move in the only way he could communicate right now. And Leo, feeling this _ache_ throb through him, obeyed.

 

It was a leisurely fucking, slow and deep, Leo canting his hips at the perfect angle to send Jim’s eyes fluttering shut again. On the third thrust, Jim’s hands rose over his head and grabbed onto the edge of the tub, bracing himself so he could meet Leo’s hips without moving.

 

Leo found it gave him a stronger base and gratefully, he began moving faster, stretching over Jim in a crouch to capture that mouth. Jim, who had been so vocal all night, was strangely silent—eyes shut, teeth biting into his lip.

 

Leo’s tongue stroked in rhythm with his hips, teasingly freeing that lip, and whispering gently, “I wanna hear you, darlin’. Wanna hear you moan for me. Wanna hear you scream for me when I make you come.” He wrapped a hand around Jim’s hard cock, “Wanna hear you when I come so deep into you, you won’t know where I end and you begin.”

 

A harsh moan sound and a hand moved to grab onto the back of Leo’s head, eyes snapping open, “Christ, what you do to me. _Fuck_ , Bones, I can’t even  . . . ah . . . fuck! Can’t even, oh, _think_ with you, oh yeah, right there, baby, right . . . God! With you in meeee!”

 

The last word was a squeal Jim would’ve been embarrassed about if he were aware enough to remember it. But Leo had pushed Jim’s thighs higher, changing the angle, and shoved right into Jim’s prostate.

 

Grinning harshly at the babbling noises from Jim that ensued, Leo redoubled his pace, feeling his own orgasm building quickly. Wanting Jim to come first, Leo hiked a muscled thigh over his shoulder and began rotating his hips in a quick grind with each downward thrust.

 

Jim cried out and his hand jerked Leo’s head down, Jim panting around his lips, “Bones, god Bones, gonna . . . gonna come. Oh god, Bones, make me come!”

 

Hands tightened their grip on Jim’s hips and began pulling him back on each thrust, fucking him harder, moving steadily until all that could be heard was the hard slap of flesh and their groans, Jim’s steadily increasing until he screamed, “Bones!!” and the cock between them erupted without being touched.

 

The feel of the warm streams shooting onto his chest was enough to send Leo over the edge, shuddering deep into Jim, jerking his hips until he couldn’t get any deeper. Jim twitched with each pulse, moaning softly and slowly letting his legs fall listlessly to the ground.

 

This pushed Leo from Jim’s depths and neither man could have predicted that Leo would react so poorly to this, moving before he could think about it. He shoved Jim onto his side and moved in front of him, pulling a leg over his hip and inserting his still mostly hard cock back in. Leo savored the shudder Jim gave when Leo forced himself back in, gliding smoothly into through the relaxed muscles and lubricating come.

 

After a few moments, both men stopped shuddering and simply clung to each other, wrecked and sated. Absently Leo ran his hands over the other man’s wide back, refusing to think and simply letting the feel of Jim sink into him.

 

Quiet had descended once more and Leo was about to fall into a post-coital doze when he felt Jim whisper against his neck, “I can’t give you up now, Bones.”

 

Leo’s hand stilled for only a moment before resuming its patterns. It wasn’t until Jim had settled into a light sleep, curled into Leo’s neck, before Leo finally answered, “Neither can I.”


	7. Fireworks and Furtive Kisses

 

 

It should have been horribly awkward the next morning. That was what Leo was expecting: awkwardness and regret. He had expected Jocelyn to regret inviting another man into their marriage, expected Jim to leave early and Leo to be left with a mess on his hands.

 

Of course, Jim Kirk defied expectations . . . even in this. So instead of a morning where no one could even look at each other, he’d gotten a morning filled with easy passion and laughter. Jim had woken Jocelyn with his head between her thighs, her eyes sleepily blinking open when she was already on the verge orgasm, Jim’s hands pinning her to his mouth. Leo had watched with hooded eyes, unsure of how he felt. On one hand, this was just too . . . much. On the other hand, his eyes couldn’t keep off the sight of Jim stretched out on his belly, thighs spread, muscled bunched holding Jocelyn’s hips up.

 

Jim’s mouth was apparently quite skilled and Leo was more than a little jealous that she had gotten its benefits twice now. Her delicate hands were buried in copper hair made brighter by the morning light streaming in from the veranda, and Leo could push aside his jealousy long enough to acknowledge that they were beautiful together, male and female images of each other. Their skin tones ran seamlessly together, Jim’s muscles a compliment to Jocelyn’s curves, his hair a darker echo of her honey blond, his eyes a vibrant counterpoint to her cornflower blue. They could have been siblings.

 

Shying away from that disturbing thought, Leo propped his head up and just watched as Jim took his wife apart, content to let them have their time together in penance of the hours he and Jim had spent locked in the bathroom. They had only crawled into bed a few short hours before Leo was treated to this sight. And as he watched Jim lunge forward at the moment of Jocelyn’s climax, burying himself deep as she clenched and moaned helplessly around him, he silently wondered if Jim hadn’t been sent to tempt them both and wondered what price they would pay for their surrender.

 

A large hand palming Leo’s hip interrupted such useless thoughts and he looked down to see Jim’s hand clenching on him as he sought his own orgasm. And as he approached it, Jim ripped his mouth from Jocelyn’s, turning to pin Leo with hungry and desperate eyes, the blue searing Leo’s breath away, unable to look away and Jim began to shudder into Jocelyn. It was almost like he was unaware of the soothing strokes Jocelyn’s hands made, like he needed to be connected to Leo at this moment. And Leo could admit, silently of course, that it eased the tight ball that had been clenched inside of him since he’d opened his eyes, eased him into an acceptance that was unexpected but desperately needed.

 

Short minutes later, Jim and Jocelyn collapsed against each other, Jocelyn between them but Jim’s hand still on Leo’s hip, Jim’s mouth quirked wryly, “Morning, Bones.”

 

A brow rose at the name and Jim’s eyes flickered to Jocelyn briefly before leaning across to press a messy kiss on Leo’s lips. Jocelyn murmured at the sight and her hand came up to trace across Leo’s jaw, and she rolled to press her own kiss to the corner of Leo’s mouth, “Mornin’, honey.”

 

Her voice was thick with a languid sweetness that was unique to the women of Georgia, replete with contentment unique to a woman well satisfied. He looked at her, really looked at her, searching for signs of uneasiness or regret. She met his gaze steadily, something amused in those eyes he knew so well. Her hand reached up and tangled through his thick hair but instead of speaking, she only smiled, so openly he knew she was fine. More than fine.

 

Relieved beyond expressing and for reasons he wasn’t ready to explore, Leo settled next to her, tucking her slender frame against his. At her soft, happy sigh he pressed a kiss to the crown up her head, closing his eyes but still tangling his fingers with Jim’s at his hip, a smile touching his mouth when a happy sigh echoed out of the other man.

 

He felt Jim’s weight shift, felt the bed give just a bit, and Jocelyn’s purr when Jim settled against her. He didn’t see the thankful kiss Jim pressed against her shoulder, didn’t see the tension ease out of broad shoulders. Instead, he fell asleep to Jim’s thumb rubbing slowly over his palm, Jocelyn’s breath against his chest, and a sense of peace that had been missing since he’d first laid eyes on the infamous captain.

 

 

***

 

 

Leo had gotten his turn at being woken by Jim’s mouth, though he grumbled a bit about not really being to enjoy it as by the time his eyes fluttered open, hips were bucking, coming helplessly down Jim’s throat. Blue eyes were twinkling merrily at him, even as cheeks hallowed, causing Leo to groan as Jim sucked around him, pulling at each spurt, drawing his orgasm out skillfully.

 

Jocelyn was plastered to his side, watching with glazed eyes, and Leo doubted that she was aware of the steady movement of her hips against his side. Jim, however, was very aware and as soon as he had swallowed the last drop, he was rolling Jocelyn onto Leo, quickly spreading both of their thighs so he could fit between. Leo didn’t know how to describe the experience of being their bed, of feeling Jim’s balls slap against him as he pushed Jocelyn hard, of feeling her shudders, her moans against his skin, Jim biting into his lip as he ruthlessly drove them both to their next climax. Leo only knew that by the time it came, he was hard again and Jocelyn was murmuring that they were trying to kill her.

 

And before he could move towards Jim, Jocelyn had, with one skillful shift of her hips, slid Leo deep, whispering with a whimper, “Slowly, honey. I’m so, ah, _oh_ , sensitive.”

 

Jim sank back onto his haunches, watching with narrowed eyes as husband and wife fucked slowly before him. Leo groaned when he felt fingers gently probing between them, caught Jocelyn’s cry with his mouth when a finger glided along with his next stroke, entering Jocelyn with his cock. It was Leo’s turn to cry out when that finger slid back out, soaked, and found the entrance to his body, carefully but expertly opening him, Leo feeling only pleasure at the deft invasion.

 

Jim expelled a deep breath, licking his lips, watching his finger slowly disappear. His eyes flicked up to Leo’s, pupils blown wide, and swallowed heavily, “Like that? God, Bones, you’re so tight.”

 

Leo could only groan and roll his hips, causing Jocelyn to murmur as well. Jim smiled and leaned forward, dipping his head and running his tongue over them, not at all shy about licking up his own juices that were smeared over Leo’s cock, only rumbling when they both cried out.

 

Leo watched as Jim pulled back, mourning the loss of that clever tongue, but captivated when Jim slid two fingers from his other hand into his mouth, sucking them, soaking them, and reaching for Jocelyn.

 

From there it was a blur for Leo’s senses. He couldn’t look away from Jim as he prepped Jocelyn to take his fingers, first easing his way with his tongue, making her buck in a way that nearly made Leo come. He could see a dazed look on her face, no doubt one echoed on his, both of them completely lost in the sensual world Jim had created for them. Her hands clenched down on Leo’s shoulders when Jim’s finger began to probe her and Leo could only hold his breath.

 

The room’s silence, unfilled with anything other than Jocelyn’s whimpers and Leo’s heavy breathing, was smoothly broken by Jim’s husky voice, distracting them from the burn of a second finger entering both them, “Fuck, you two are so goddamn beautiful. Both so tight, but you’re so eager for me. That’s it, relax and let me in.”

 

Both Leo and Jocelyn groaned in tandem when the second finger slid smoothly in, stretching them, causing them to buck towards each other, slamming together. It was a daisy chain of sensation, all of them connected together, and it rendered Leo and Jocelyn incoherent.

 

“That’s it,” Jim breathed, still looking intently into Leo’s eyes but talking to both of them, “take my fingers, open for me. Let me stretch you; stretch you so I can fuck you. Soon, soon I’m gonna fuck you here. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I’m here to give you what you want, what you’ve been thinking of secretly. You’ve been thinking about how I’ll feel, buried deep, fucking you until you scream for me.”

 

Leo struggled to hold back his orgasm, drowning in Jim’s words, his touch, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled, surrounded, and stroked simultaneously. He could feel the press of Jim’s fingers through Jocelyn and it was destroying the tenuous hold he had on his control. Jocelyn and he had gone from fucking each other to fucking Jim’s fingers, moving together only as a response to moving against Jim. Obviously they didn’t last long. Leo cried out when Jim crooked his fingers, stroking directly over his prostate, causing him to buck wildly, which caused his pubic bone to slam repeatedly into Jocelyn’s clit. She immediately followed him into orgasm. They clung to each other throughout the aftermath, but Leo couldn’t rip his eyes from the satisfaction gleaming in Jim’s eyes.

 

He couldn’t rip his eyes away when Jocelyn collapsed against him, already sliding into a light doze, when Jim palmed his renewed erection, and certainly not when he lunged forward with his orgasm, Leo feeling each spurt Jim directed to where Leo was still buried in Jocelyn, striping them both with his come, claiming each of them so it would always feel slightly empty if they fucked without him.

 

Leo had no problem reading that primitive possession in Jim’s eyes, in the almost cruel smirk on his mouth as he surveyed his lovers, splayed out on the bed, dripping his with seed. And all he could do was shudder with agreement when Jim arched over Jocelyn, brushing her shoulder with a kiss but claiming Leo’s lips, giving him long, drugging kisses Leo was helpless to resist, and pulling away with a near silent, “Mine, Bones. You’re mine, now.”

 

 

***

 

Jim sat at the breakfast table, fingers tracing idly over white linen, as both of his lovers squirmed under his gaze and tried to pretend they weren’t too fucked out to worry. Tried to pretend they were just sitting in a hotel restaurant with a friend; neither wanted to admit that they should have just ordered room service like Jim suggested. Both Leo and Jocelyn had argued for the dining room, having been prepared with an extra set of clothes. Jim, losing the argument, had simply and unashamedly redressed in his clothes from the previous night, now thoroughly rumpled, a testament that they had spent the night forgotten on the floor. Jim didn’t mind. It belied the picture they were trying to present.

 

 Jocelyn began the inevitable discussion, “So, we should talk about this.”

 

Amusement streaked through Jim. _Shouldn’t_ , Jim thought silently. Give these two the opportunity and he had no doubt they would put this down to a _little adventure_ and leave it at that. He had no intention of allowing that to happen.

 

Jim, who had easy access to both of them at the small round table, leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth before she could say anything else, “No.”

 

It was Leo who objected next. Predictably. “Christ, Jim, we can’t behave like horny teenagers. We’re adults and should act that way. We need to be responsible about this so it isn’t awkward.”

 

Jim began to play with Jocelyn’s fingers with one hand, the other sneaking under the conveniently long table cloth to run rough fingertips against a silky thigh, keeping her occupied so he could argue with Leo, “It wasn’t awkward when I fucked you two into oblivion this morning and it won’t be when I do it again tonight, and again tomorrow.”

 

Leo’s eyes rolled, “Arrogant bastard.”

 

Jocelyn opened her mouth to interject but Jim snuck his fingers further up her thigh, gliding beneath her flimsy underwear. Jim had discovered that he was a big fan of Jocelyn’s lingerie, it tending towards wispy and tiny. It was so easy to simply pull her panties aside and plunge his fingers deep into her heat, already wet for him.

 

Jim covered her moan with voice, “Bones, we barely made it out of the room. I bent over for my pants and found myself up against a wall a half a second later. Right now, I’ve got my fingers deep inside your wife and she’s soaking them, Bones, squirming for them to fuck her.”

 

Jim jerked his fingers deep inside, pushing in roughly and watching with satisfaction as Jocelyn shuddered and bit her lip to keep from crying out. This was why he’d picked a table in the corner at the back of the room. “This isn’t gonna end today, Bones. And pretending that it is, is only gonna make things more complicated. Because then it becomes cheating when I fuck you guys, and why make it that when we can have this?”

 

He slid his fingers out, purposefully leaving her unsatisfied, keeping Bones’ gaze as he brought the fingers up to suck on. Jocelyn was breathing heavily next to him, trying not to squirm or demand he finish what he started.

 

When she managed to focus again, Jim spoke once more, “So let’s just enjoy each other, all of us. We can all have this, for as long as it makes sense. No promises, no guarantees, no restrictions. We can be with each other in any and all combinations desired. Agreed?”

 

It was with a held breath that Jim waited for his answer. He knew it was a dangerous gamble he had taken. But he wanted unrestricted access to Leo, needed it, and would do whatever it took to get it. And he certainly wouldn’t mind unrestricted access to Jocelyn. Good God, the woman could fuck like a wet dream. And though a part of him whispered that he was playing with fire, that it was an unstable triangle he was creating, Jim simply couldn’t bring himself to care. He was so close.

 

Leo and Jocelyn looked at each other for long minutes, communicating in that way that husbands and wives did, even when they weren’t telepathically bonded Vulcans. Finally, Jocelyn took his hand and whispered, “Yes. Agreed.”

 

 

 

They didn’t make it through breakfast. Jim had them into the elevator before they could bring themselves to object, and took turns kissing them until they got to the room. It was there that Leo and Jocelyn seized control, once more speaking without words, but simultaneously stripping Jim and trapping him between them.

 

When Jim found himself in Bones’ lap, slowly being stretched open by his cock once more, Jocelyn slowly lowering herself onto him, he couldn’t remember why he’d been about to object. Jim had been in threesomes before, occasionally even with couples, but never a couple so in tune with each other that it was like being fucked by a singular entity. Jim could only lay his head back against Leo’s shoulder, occasionally seeking his mouth out for a kiss, and let them take him as they would. When Jim came, it was with his hands wrapped around Jocelyn’s hips, and Leo’s on his, so lost in a haze of thick pleasure he could barely register the warm fluid spilling into and over him. It was only long minutes later when they finally began to untangle themselves, Leo and Jim moving towards the shower while Jocelyn promised to join them after calling room service.

 

It was nearing evening when they finally left the hotel room, paying the ridiculous sum to stay three hours past checkout. Of course, the front desk had called when Jim was buried in Jocelyn, and Leo in Jim, so when Jocelyn had answered the phone (voice only) after the fortieth ring, she’d been willing to agree to just about any price.

 

But eventually Jim needed to pick up Mason and Dixon from Hallie’s and they _all_ needed new clothes. So they finally separated, but only once Jim had wrangled the promise from the couple to come over for dinner. He wasn’t letting them have too much time on their own until he was sure this would stick.

 

And already he was wondering if he could finagle an invitation to stay at Bones and Jocelyn’s while his family took over his house. After all, it was close enough that he could get back and forth in just a couple of minutes with his hovercar. And no matter how much he loved his library, he would rather sleep in Leo’s bed anyway. He would wait for an opportunity to slip in the fact that he would be overrun, and hopefully an invitation would be forthcoming.

 

 

***

 

Four days later, Jim was no longer waiting for an invitation but demanding one, “Bones, you have to help me! I can’t take five more days of this.”

 

It was whispered fiercely to Leo while they were watching Missy Yakamuri expertly twirl a baton down mainstreet. Leo was sipping Miss May’s special lemonade and Jim made a note to keep an eye on just how many glasses his mother had. “Jim, your family just got here last night and your friends this morning. How can you need shelter already? Hasn’t it been almost a year since you’ve seen them?”

 

“Oh, I’m bringing Spock and T’Pring with me. I would never abandon them to the house of crazies. I might, _might_ , think about bringing Mason and Dixon with me if I weren’t afraid Satan’s minions would follow them.”

 

Leo eyed said minions, cheerfully eating their ice cream cones and watching the parade with wide eyes. He turned to Jim, his voice dry, “Yes, I can see the evilness radiating off them. With those big brown eyes and chocolate smeared over their faces, they are the very picture of all that is unholy. Did you happen to take any funny colored pills this morning?”

 

Jim just sighed. Leo, Mark, and Andrew had bonded to each other immediately the previous evening, after Jim insisted that Jocelyn and Leo be there for his family’s arrival. And while Jim loved his nephews, he also had a very healthy fear of what they were capable of. Like when he had woken this morning, glued in his sheets.

 

Damn Sam for telling those boys about the pranks they used to pull on each other as kids. It had only given them ideas and they didn’t need ideas from Sam. They already had Lucifer whispering in their ears.

 

He looked over to see Spock and T’Pring talking quietly to each other, standing perfectly straight, not touching. But Jim could see their pleasure and interest at the parade before them. No doubt T’Pring was happy examining the continuation of this old human ritual and the social dynamics that ruled small towns. Out of all the races she had studied in her career as a xenopsychologist, she maintained that she’d always found humans the most fascinating. Which made her the perfect bondmate for Spock. She never expected him to be anything other than half Vulcan, half Human and found the combination both pleasing and _fascinating_.

 

Nyota was chatting easily with Jocelyn, as Scotty was with Jim’s mother. The latter pair were impossible to separate when they got together and Scotty once confessed that if Nyota hadn’t stolen it so thoroughly, he would have offered Winona Kirk his heart. Jim had only laughed and clapped Scotty on the shoulder, “Be grateful you can’t, Scotty. She’d eat you up and spit you out.”

 

Nearing sixty, Winona Kirk was beautiful, much like her son would be beautiful as he aged. There were lines on her face, both of sorrow and laughter, and if asked, Winona would say she was grateful for each one. There was plenty of grey amongst the gold strands of her hair, which she would laughingly blame on being the mother of Kirks. There was brilliance and fire in her hazel green eyes, which she claimed as her own. Jim loved her fiercely. Would always love her fiercely, even as he plotted on how to keep her attention fully occupied on anything else for the remainder of her stay. She’d already been asking too many pointed questions about Leo and Jocelyn.

 

Sam and Aurelian were holding hands, positioned over Aurelian’s stomach and Jim wondered when Sam would break the news. Spock, who could smell these things, had already congratulated Jim on becoming an uncle again. Jim was desperately hoping for a girl.

 

Jim nudged Leo again. When Leo only sighed, Jim leaned in, “Just . . . whatever you do, don’t let my mother near you or Jocelyn.”

 

Leo shot Jim an incredulous look, “What am I supposed to do? Run?”

 

Jim nodded, earnest in his sincerity, which Leo responded by shoving his drink into Jim’s face, “Oh for Christ’s sake, take this. You clearly need this more than I do.”

 

Not about to look a gift horse in the face, Jim gratefully took a long drink but kept his gaze on Leo, “I’m serious. You see her coming, and you will, she has this way of walking that people just scatter before, you run. Take Jocelyn and find someplace safely out of the way. Not too obvious, cause she’ll find you. Then comm me and I’ll distract her.”

 

“Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a secret agent. I’m not gonna be runnin’ and hidin’ all over the damn place!”

 

The annoyance in Leo’s voice thickened his accent and Jim nearly grinned. Finally, he shook his head, “Bones, I really don’t think you-”

 

“Jimmy, Spock was asking for you since I was headed this way.”

 

Shoulders slumped for just a moment and he turned to face his mother, giving her his best smile, “Mom.”

 

“Jimmy.” Winona smiled back, the same smile Jim was giving her.

 

“Mom, why don’t you-“

 

“No thanks.”

 

“But you didn’t even-”

 

“Run along to Spock, Jimmy. I’ll just stay here and chat with Dr. McCoy.”

 

“Well, I don’t think-”

 

Winona kept her same smile but there was a glint in her eye that clearly said, _James Tiberius Kirk, you do as I say_.

 

Jim decided not to test her.

 

After all, the more he denied her the more adamant and _creative_ she would become. And that was a level of horror he just didn’t need.

 

Sighing, he shot Leo a look the both apologized and commanded him to keep his mouth shut, and strode over to Spock, refusing to look back on the disaster he left behind. _Christ_.

 

Both Spock and T’Pring greeted him when he appeared at their side. “You were looking for me?”

 

Spock blinked at him, clearly amused, “Your mother seemed to suggest that we would benefit from your company at this particular time and it seemed illogical to argue with her certainty.”

 

Jim tilted his head, amusement warring with horror, “Spock, are you . . . are you _intimidated_ by my mother?”

 

T’Pring’s brows rose, clearly affronted on behalf of her bondmate, “It would be illogical to be intimidated and therefore impossible that Spock would be so.” And here affront turned to her own particular brand of humor, “However, Commodore Kirk is a particularly pertinacious individual and it seemed more prudent to simply acquiesce to her wishes when we are familiar with her resistance to logical arguments that disagree with her purpose.”

 

“Story of my life,” Jim sighed. But he brightened almost immediately, “So, how are you enjoying the festivities?”

 

Jim grinned up at Spock and absolutely did not lean to the side to see Winona talking and Leo looking around him frantically for an escape route.

 

Well, he’d tried to warn him.

 

Shrugging and figuring the most he could do was damage control, Jim turned back to Spock to see him eyebrow-smiling at Jim again, patiently waiting for his friend’s attention. “I confess, Jim, to finding the festivities most interesting. In particular, the choosing of a “Cotton Queen”, which seems to be based mostly on favorable physical attributes rather than any notable adeptness in the raising of _Gossypium hirsutum_. Nyota has indicated that her role is solely ceremonial and the benefits are limited to the female herself, rather than to the community at large. Therefore, I find the choosing of this Cotton Queen to be interesting but illogical.”

 

There was a brief pause and then before Spock could stop it, Jim had slung an arm around Spock’s shoulders and brought him in for a side hug, “I’ve really missed you, Spock.”

 

Green lightly tinged Spock’s ears, delighting Jim, which only increased when Spock clasped his hands behind his back and nodded, “I confess to being quite pleased to be in your presence once more, as well.”

 

Jim just clapped him on the back, shot T’Pring, who was bearing Jim touching her bondmate quite well, a wink, “Just wait until we get to the greased pig portion of the afternoon.”

 

And like clockwork, both Spock and T’Pring’s brows shot up and they murmured, “Fascinating.”

 

***

 

Three hours later, Winona was looking smug, Leo was looking shell shocked, but both were refusing to talk. Jim, Sam, and Scotty had all signed up for the pie-eating contest, which Scotty had won, of course, by eating an impressive six pounds of pie before anyone else and managing to keep it down for a full minute before throwing it up. He won a blue ribbon, the admiration of the men in town, and four blueberry pies that he swore he wouldn’t touch until the following afternoon. Of course, Nyota had confiscated them just to make sure.

 

Sam had beaten Jim at darts and won twenty credits. Leo was carrying his own blue ribbon due to his mincemeat winning first place, thus renewing the feud between he and Trudy McAllister who had been attempting an upset this year. Nyota was carrying a gold fish due to her superior ring tossing skills. Winona, due to her ability to disassemble and reassemble old Terran projectile weapons in less than eight seconds, was carrying free May’s lemonade passes and two comm numbers. She’d also outshot Jim in target practice but he wasn’t going to think about that.

 

And to aid in that effort, they were now at the final event of the day. Jocelyn, Nyota, Winona, Aurelian, and T’Pring were lined up around an enclosed area, the first four already laughing and T’Pring with a definite glint of amusement in her dark eyes and a PADD in her hands to ‘take notes’. Jim doubted those notes would consist of anything other than photos.

 

Beside him, Spock was continuing to argue, “Is not lubricating a porcine and then terrorizing it by attempting to entrap it not cruel?”

 

Jim grinned, “Spock, we aren’t going to hurt it. We’re just trying to catch it.”

 

“I do not understand how I was coerced out of my clothing and into these ‘shorts’ and to participating in this illogical event.”

 

“You lost the skeet shooting contest,” Jim reminded him cheerily.

 

Spock’s countenance became more severe at that, the Vulcan equivalent of a scowl, and Jim shared an amused look with Leo.  All of the men in their party had been roped into this, Leo included, though he chose not to tell Jim that not only had he participated in it before, but was in fact the reigning champion.

 

“And should I retrieve a lubricated porcine?” Spock asked, annoyance definitely making his tone quite snotty.

 

Jim sighed, “If you retrieve one first, you may name your forfeit. We all agreed.”

 

Sam and Scotty nodded at the reminder while Mark and Andrew once more reminded their father their forfeit would be no designated bed time for the rest of the trip. At the initial declaration, Jim and Sam had immediately made a pact to prevent them from catching a pig. While it seemed unlikely, they were Kirks and there _were_ two of them. Sam and Jim and performed more impossible feats as children.

 

“Jim-”

 

Jim was already shaking his head, at Spock, “We’re doing this, Spock. Think of it as an opportunity to more closely examine the archaic and illogical rituals of humans. And besides, T’Pring seems quite interested in observing this ritual and will no doubt appreciate your insights having actually participated in it.”

 

Spock subsided at the mention of his bondmate and Jim was nearly positive that was a pout forming on his lower lip. Scotty was rubbing his hands together and nudging Sam, “So, side bet?”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and kept his hands on his boys’ shoulders, trying to prevent them from just diving head first into the mud before the pigs were even released. At ten and twelve they were more than a little rambunctious—they were Kirks in training. “I learned my lesson in the gold fish incident. Besides, I’ve had too much of that damn lemonade to think clearly. That stuff is evil.”

 

Leo smirked at that and Scotty laughed outright. “Ah, lad, it’s fine stuff, Miss May’s lemonade. A bit on the weak side but what can you expect when it’s not whisky?”

 

Leo, who was feeling little pain after his own four glasses (two consumed immediately after his conversation with Winona), saw the men herding the greased pigs close to the enclosure brushed his shoulder again Jim’s, “I’ve thought of my forfeit.”

 

Glittering blue eyes turned to him and swept over Leo’s bare torso appreciatively, “Really?”

 

Leo gave Jim his own appreciative glance and leaned in a bit closer, “Definitely. It’s been a week since I’ve had your mouth. So if I win, I want you on your knees, Jim.”

 

 

***

 

Jim would maintain that Leo cheated. How was he supposed to move when that image had just been transported into his head? Or even see a pig barreling straight towards him when all he could imagine was Leo writhing under his mouth?

 

It was because of those images that Jim didn’t react to the horn signaling the beginning, or see the missed dive of Sam’s that sent a pig running straight into Jim’s legs, knocking him face forward into the mud.

 

From there, it was pretty much a blur. He’d managed to shove himself to his feet, wiping mud out of his eyes, and dove for a pig that was running by him.

 

Now, when they say greased pigs, one imagines that they’re slippery. However, there was slippery and there was impossibly slippery. Add mud to the mixture, and two mini-Kirks who were gleefully throwing mud at the adults as much as trying to catch a pig themselves, and it was a recipe for many pigs remaining uncaught.

 

So when Jim dove for the pig, he felt a brief moment of triumph when he hands nabbed the sides of one pig, only to feel them immediately slide off and him lose his balance, sending his forward once more into the mud.

 

Right next to him was Scotty, laughing and yelling, “Wee slippery bastard!”

 

Jim looked up in time to see Spock trying to Vulcan-whisper a pig only to have the pig scream and run at Spock’s legs, managing to knock the once pristine Vulcan flat onto his ass. Laughter bubbled up in Jim and was released when Spock looked at the mud he was sitting in with pure disgust. Hauling himself to his feet, he spotted Leo who had managed to corner a pig _and_ remain fairly clean and decided that Leo’s forfeit was hardly inducement for Jim to win.

 

However, he at least wanted to put up a good show. So for the next couple of minutes, Jim ran around with the pigs, managed to ‘accidentally’ tackle both his brother and his laughing nephews, take out Scotty twice, and splatter Spock with even more mud. He was about to tackle Andrew for the second time when the horn blasted and Jim looked up to see Leo holding a pig gently but firmly, grinning at Jim.

 

Jim just smirked in return and made a show of scraping the mud off his chest and stomach, watching triumphantly as Leo’s eyes dropped and hazel eyes shifted to amber. Hmm, this was one contest Jim was more than happy enough to lose.

 

 

 

The day had wrapped up with the men showering at the outdoor stalls and changing back into their clothing. Only Spock seemed to remain put out, though it was difficult to tell. Jim and Nyota merely exchanged knowing glances and watched as T’Pring soothed her bondmate over the assault on his dignity with soft praises and rapid fire questions on the experience so Spock could place it into the category of scientific experimentation.

 

A few short minutes later Spock was returned to his stoic Vulcan good-humor and they all made their way to the picnic tables to grab some dinner. Now it was just a waiting game until the fireworks started.

 

At dinner the discussion began of fireworks, how they were constructed and set off and whether it would be possible to recreate them in space. Scotty theorized the placement of certain chemicals within a container that would then be ignited by photon torpedoes, which Uhura immediately proclaimed would _not_ be happening aboard her ship. Scotty merely ignored it like he hadn’t heard a word but shot Jim a sorrowful look. Jim just clapped him on the shoulder, murmuring, “There’s always Sulu’s ship.”

 

Which had perked the Scot up a fair amount.

Jocelyn had left to help Eleanor with the serving of the dinner lines. Jim’s favorite part of the festival was that all of the credits raised were used to fund the local schools. While the local government provided a good curriculum, the town wanted their students to have more opportunities than just the basics could offer and raised money every year to institute extra courses, exchange courses, as well as their sports and club teams. Eleanora was a key organizer and had spent most of her day running around, making sure everything was running smoothly.

 

Winona had taken charge of the boys so that Sam and Aurelian could wander off under a nearby tree and eat in relative peace, stealing precious moments together. Jim watched them with a smile and Winona leaned over, “They still haven’t told me, like I didn’t know from the moment I saw her. You’d think by now Sam would realize I know everything.”

 

Jim leaned over and brushed a kiss against his mother’s cheek. There was a time when their relationship had been strained, when Jim had blamed her for leaving them and going back into space. But the first time Jim had gotten command of the Enterprise he’d understood.

Besides, his mother was kind of awesome.  “More Kirks for the world to fear?”

 

Winona nodded even as a hand shot out and prevented Mark from shoving potato salad into Andrew’s face, “Wonderful, isn’t it? Though, I am hoping for a girl.”

 

Jim watched as Andrew threw his roll at Mark in retaliation for the failed potatoing, and nodded vehemently, “You and me both.”

 

Leo, who had been watching the exchange with the comfortable amusement of an only child, leaned over and whispered into Jim’s ear, “So is that what you were like at their age?”

 

Winona, who had ears like a bat, snorted, “At twelve, Jim was stealing cars and driving them over the edges of quarries. Throwing potato salad at Sam would have been a welcome alternative.”

 

Leo’s brows shot up and Jim flushed, “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

 

“It’s exactly as bad as it sounds,” Winona returned, pinning Jim with a glare that too easily took him back to the twelve year old he used to be. “And don’t let Jimmy worm his way out of telling you that story one day, Leonard.”

 

When Leo turned his gaze back onto Jim, who was now determinedly playing with his food rather than eating it, he patiently waited until Jim looked up at him. A shoulder shrugged and Jim muttered, “Later,” while shooting a pointed glance at the rest of the table.

 

After dinner was finished, they all made their way the center of the town’s park, settling on blankets previously laid out, clustering together with the rest of Jim’s beloved town folk. He exchanged waves with a good portion of them and he sighed in satisfaction. He loved this place. And the last few days had been . . . awesome. Awesome enough that he was reconsidering how much time he would be spending in San Francisco.

 

Leaving those thoughts for another time, Jim joined the easy conversation going on around him, skillfully weaving Leo into the rhythms of those he loved most. Soon, Leo and T’Pring were discussing varying reactions of different species to post-traumatic stress, something Leo had previously researched and something T’Pring was continuing to research on New Vulcan.

 

The rest of them were talking politics, Jim paying particular attention to the few sentences muttered by his mother. Commodore Winona Kirk was mostly retired, spending her time figuring out how to make things go faster, but she had impeccable sources and when she shot Jim a significant glance he only sighed. Fuck! He was really going to have to talk to Pike and soon.

 

The noise began to dim as a voice called out the fireworks were about to begin. Jim used the opportunity to slide over next to Leo, trying to be subtle enough for the town but not acting like he was hiding it from his family. It was a delicate line to walk.

 

He could feel Leo relax into him and nearly sighed in relief. They had spent days locked together, Jim barely letting him go long enough for Leo to put short visits in to the hospital, usually leaving with Jim unless there was a surgery. They would visit Jocelyn and steal her during lunch, but the rest of the afternoon they spent locked together in a hotel room. It should have felt tawdry, but it had just felt necessary.

 

The previous evening was the first night in a week Jim hadn’t spent wrapped around Leo and he’d hated every minute of it. He didn’t think he would make it another five days.

 

Sliding his hand over Leo’s thigh, and feeling it tense beneath him, Jim used the first burst of fireworks, and everyone’s preoccupation with them, to pull Leo’s head down to his. As the sky streaked with light, all Jim could see was amber eyes and with a reckless grin, he covered Leo’s lips with his own.

 

The next few days, the next few months, would be difficult. But as Leo’s mouth softened so beautifully under his, as strong, nimble fingers cradled Jim’s jaw, all he could think was everything he needed was right within his grasp.


	8. A Silent Pas de Deux

 

 

Jim walked beside T’Pring while Mrs. Maria Allois spoke quietly with Spock about soil ph concentrations, artificial atmosphere, solar radiation wavelengths, gravity differentials, and a thousand other things that had allowed her to create this truly remarkable environment.

 

When Hallie had told him that a Mrs. Allois had a grove of Vulcan fruit plants, he had imagined they were transplanted into Georgian soil. He had not imagined that she had so faithfully recreated Vulcan, from atmosphere to soil, that both Spock and T’Pring had trembled upon entering the bio-dome. They had gone so far as to grip each other, leaning into one another for a moment. Spock’s voice had been unsteady when he had asked _how_ this was done, and how the VSA and Council were unaware this place existed.

 

It was fifty acres of Vulcan-that-was. Everything was perfectly correct. Air moisture, sun wavelengths of 40-Eridani, carbon to oxygen rations in the air, replicated wind, soil content, native insects, even small reptilian and small mammal life that had once lived on Vulcan. Everything that had been in the native habitat to these plants and trees had been recreated, transplanted, regrown, and had existed perfectly for the last forty years.

 

T’Pring’s eyes had fluttered shut as soon as they stepped in, but since she had barely blinked, drinking in every aspect surrounded her. Jim leaned in, “I know I only visited Vulcan with you guys a couple time, but this is _eerily_ familiar.”

 

“It is quite . . . disconcerting . . . to find myself surrounded by Vulcan once more. While intellectually I know this is not Vulcan, my senses tell me otherwise. It smells of _Na’am_ and I expect to see the Great River. My mind tells me I am in Terra’s summer, but my senses whisper of Vulcan’s spring, fruit ripe for harvest before the death summer brings.” Her voice was heavy with emotion that T’Pring so rarely showed. But, Jim supposed, this was a compromising situation.

 

Spock’s hands were clenched tightly behind his back, tension clearly written in the way his fingertips clenched into his wrists. “Is he okay?”

 

T’Pring turned to Jim, her eyes filled with affection. She had been skeptical of Spock’s friendship with this human at first, but time had shown her that where Jim Kirk loves, he loves fiercely and loyally, with the ease of humanity and the depth of vulcanity. “He is conflicted. He still grieves, as we all do, for Vulcan-that-was. But this, James, this is a gift beyond measure. It is unthinkable that we might have never known this piece of Vulcan still lived.”

 

“I’m sure the VSA will be knocking on Mrs. Allois door soon.”

 

T’Pring murmured her agreement but laid a gentle hand on Jim’s forearm, “It’s value is far beyond the opportunity to gather microorganisms we believed lost forever, insects and arachnids that assist with plant growth and are essential to the environment. _Vokau_ will benefit from what is here, however it us, as a people, as survivors, that will benefit from the fact that this _is_ here. I would expect that Mrs. Allois, should she be amenable, will find Vulcans visiting that seek to experience, rather than study.”

 

Jim sighed, “I can’t believe Starfleet never informed the Council that this place existed. She said she wrote them multiple times.”

 

T’Pring’s hands clenched in agreement and a note a fierceness entered her voice, “It is an unforgivable clerical oversight. Ten years have passed, ten years where our crops –” She shook her head, forcing herself to speak openly, “where perhaps something in our grief could have eased with this knowledge. Fifty acres of Vulcan lives. It is miniscule, almost incomprehensibly small in the face of what was lost, but it is more than we had before this day. Like the survivors ourselves, so few in comparison to so many, but it is all the more precious for its very existence.”

 

Silence descended once more and they continued to walk slowly. Finally, Jim asked, “Do you think this will hurt some? I know not everyone has adjusted. That it would be illogical to expect them to do so.”

 

The quirk of T’Pring’s lips was minute, but affectionate, “There is no remembrance of what was loved and lost without pain. _Vokau_ was chosen as a name to remind us of this – the transfer of the katra from one who is dying to the Keeper. To hold a katra is both burden and gift, a reminder of what was and the promise of new life. We cannot remember without grief, but we cannot bear the isolation of forgetfulness. If this is to cause us pain, it is a pain most welcome.”

 

Jim was, as always, comforted by T’Pring’s unique combination logic and emotional acceptance. He was not surprised that Spock had said that more and more Vulcans were seeking T’Pring out, particularly the younger generation that a decade later, were still coping with the loss of everything they would never have. Could see why she was so perfectly suited for his friend.

 

He slung an arm companionably around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her ebony hair, “I’ve missed you.”

 

Spock suddenly appeared, an eyebrow arched and his lips quirking, “May I enquire as to why you are molesting my bonded?”

 

Jim rolled his eyes, keeping his arm around T’Pring, “Still afraid she’s gonna leave you for me? Not that I could blame her.” He cast a flirty smile at T’Pring, “Anytime, gorgeous, give me the word and I’ll take you away.”

 

Spock growled, playfully, but he still removed Jim’s arm and offered two fingers to T’Pring, visibly easing when she returned the gesture with her own fingers. Jim laughed, delighted with them. “Hell, I’d take you both.”

 

T’Pring arched a brow, “And how would Dr. McCoy feel about this?”

 

There was a beat of silence before blue eyes narrowed, “You’ve been lying in wait, haven’t you?”

 

“Avoidance of a question indicates discomfort and-”

 

“Hey!” Jim protested, “We’ve talked about the psychoanalyzing.”

 

T’Pring only turned to Spock, “I believe my supposition that James would resist speaking of his situation with Dr. McCoy has proven correct.”

 

Spock nodded solemnly, “I did not doubt that you would be proven correct.”

 

Satisfaction was clearly written across Vulcan features as T’Pring stared at him, “And yet you had Dr. McCoy over last night. And though you, I believe the phrase is, ‘snuck him in’ late in the evening, you are aware that Vulcans require less sleep and have superior hearing, so it is not unreasonable to assume you knew Spock and I would become aware of his presence. Nor were you particularly . . . subtle . . . about the pleasure you took in your intimate activities.”

 

Jim tried to pretend he wasn’t flushing. Not that he completely understood why he was. It wasn’t like Spock and T’Pring had never known any of his past lovers. On one horrifying instance, they had walked in when Jim was entertaining the Betazoid ambassador in his quarters and T’Pring had actually stopped to study the position Jim was in, going so far to murmur to Spock, “I was unaware James was so flexible.”

 

Thankfully, the ambassador hadn’t been the shy type and had only kept his grip on Jim, grinning and inviting Spock and T’Pring to join them. At that point Spock declined politely and ushered T’Pring out, who was whispering something about an opportunity to study interspecies sexual encounters.

 

So he shouldn’t have been embarrassed. And yet he was flushing and muttering, “I wasn’t really thinking about your superior hearing.”

 

Spock laid an elegant hand on Jim’s shoulder, “T’Pring is only concerned because of Dr. McCoy’s marital status. It is unlike you to become involved with someone in a committed relationship.”

 

Jim sighed. He’d had to explain the situation to his mother the previous day, having been unable to avoid her any longer. Winona had listened and then thrown up her hands, stating only Jim would get himself involved in something so complicated and likely to blow up in his face.

 

“I’m involved with both of them.” Jim just said it. No point in drawing it out. T’Pring would just cut through all of it anyway. She was terrifying like that.

 

Two sets of Vulcan brows arched at him and Jim just sighed. They looked at each other, no doubt communicating telepathically about how insane he was and who was going to be responsible for making him see logically once more.

 

It was T’Pring who spoke so clearly Spock won. “James, you are stating that you are in a sexual relationship with Dr. McCoy and his wife.”

 

He just nodded.

 

“And they are both aware of this.”

 

Another nodded.

 

“So you have entered into a polyamorous relationship?”

 

Jim shifted. “It isn’t . . . we didn’t . . . we haven’t really formalized anything. We are sort of just . . . together.”

 

 T’Pring’s calm visage became more serious. “You have not clearly delineated the terms of the relationship? James.”

 

Disapproval and concern were clear. Jim went to pluck a leaf from a small tree, only to have Spock protectively move it away from Jim’s hand. He sighed. “No. It’s sort of new. We just . . . decided that we could be with each other whenever.”

 

“And yet you and Dr. McCoy exhibit signs of emotional involvement as well as physical involvement. I did not observe these signs between you and Jocelyn McCoy. Have I simply had insufficient opportunity to observe and there is in fact equal emotional involvement between you and Mrs. McCoy?”

 

Jim couldn’t help but wish he were anywhere else right now. “I am quite fond of Jocelyn, in addition to liking and respecting her. She’s an intelligent, beautiful woman and I enjoy spending time with her.”

 

T’Pring’s dark eyes narrowed infinitesimally and then nodded, having had something confirmed for her. “I believe it is in your best interests to withdraw from this situation sooner rather than later.”

 

Jim clenched his hands, restraining himself from immediately speaking. It was Spock who spoke next, “We are only concerned. We have not observed this level of emotional involvement from you previously, and it is concerning that it is directed to someone who is unable to return your regard in the way you may desire.”

 

“I know that this thing will only ever be a sexual thing. And it’s not like I’m inexperienced in casual things like this.”

 

T’Pring nodded, keeping soft eyes on his face, “It may be casual in appearance, but I do not believe either you or Dr. McCoy are only casually invested. Though my previous statement may be unwelcome, I would not be your friend if I did not tell you that this situation is unlikely to resolve itself favorably. Particularly for you. Dr. McCoy and Jocelyn are in a committed relationship, one that is showing signs of strain. Your sexual involvement with them, in light of the fact that none of you have sought to define your position in the relationship, is only likely to either bring them together, or be the cause of the separation. Neither situation is ideal for you.”

 

When Jim said nothing, his eyes and features blank, Spock gave a silent sigh, “We will not belabor the point, Jim. We will simply entreat you to be careful, to guard your heart well.”

 

Jim just have a short nod and began walking with them again, allowing a few moments of silence to wash away his resentment and the knot in his stomach. Finally, he asked, “What happened to Mrs. Allois?”

 

“She has offered us the opportunity to explore on our own. When we are ready, she has offered refreshment in her home and the opportunity to study her computer systems for the bio-dome. I am most eager to more carefully examine the immense amount of work done to accomplish something so remarkable. The VSA and the Council will be most intrigued to learn of this.

 

“If you will indeed be spending most the year in San Francisco, perhaps you would be amenable to allowing the use of your home to the scientists the VSA will surely send.”

 

Considering the Vulcan Council had always been welcoming of his stays on Vokau, he certainly had no objection. However . . . “Yeah, about my moving to San Francisco . . . that isn’t going to be happening exactly. I have agreed to teach two courses on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I will be in here otherwise.”

 

Spock turned to him, surprise faintly written on his features, “You have not accepted Admiral Pike’s offer?”

 

Jim kept his eyes forward, “For now I have decided to continue working with the Council. Starfleet was not amenable to my private employment by Vulcan Council and I think the security of New Vulcan is more important for the moment, particularly with increasing tensions with Romulus.”

 

T’Pring and Spock exchanged glances once more before Spock simply responded, “I am confident the Council will be most satisfied by your dedication and determination to see the project through. Will you still be following us back to New Vulcan?”

 

A slight smile at that. Vulcans rarely referred the colony as New Vulcan, usually only using the term when speaking with non-Vulcans. Officially, _Vokau_ was slowly becoming more used, but on the whole, New Vulcan remained the most popular term. Jim nodded, “I’ll be three days behind you but I’ll be staying for a couple of weeks. Once classes start, I’ll spend four days every other month inspecting the improvements and looking over the progress. Otherwise, I’ll be in Georgia. But I’d be happy to play host to some VSA scientists.”

 

T’Pring nodded smugly, “We shall see how the doctor enjoys that. You are quite attractive to Vulcans after all.”

 

Jim shot her his trademark grin, “I’m attractive to everyone.”

 

 

***

 

 

Spock and T’Pring had been undeniably pleased by Jim’s gift of a _hirat_ plant. He had also had them take a _sash-savas_ plant for the elder Spock as well. Jim didn’t get to keep in touch as much as he’d like with the Vulcan Elder, as he was often off world, but he had an undeniable affection for the man.

 

The next few months passed quickly, filled with trips to the Vulcan colony, afternoons and evenings with Leo and Jocelyn squished between trips to San Francisco. Jim met with Pike, who was unhappy but resigned to Jim’s decision not take his place among the admiralty. Or at least, he was outwardly resigned. When Admirals Barnett and Nogura stopped by Jim’s office on his first day to take him out to lunch, he knew that Pike had simply made a strategic retreat.

 

However, on Jim’s side was Eleanora, who shielded him from the worst of Pike’s schemes simply by keeping the man distracted. She popped up periodically on campus and they all would usually have lunch together, Eleanora firmly declaring that no politics were to be discussed. Which was, admittedly, difficult.

 

The relaxed atmosphere of Georgia was impossible to maintain in San Francisco, where the entire city was becoming more and more tense as the possibility of war continued to loom. Starfleet personnel had been put on alert, as had the senior class of cadets. All travel near the Neutral Zone had been halted and even ships allowed to maintain orbit above Earth had been restricted. The fleet was gradually being called in and as a result, Jim was getting to see more of his former crew.

 

He had lunch with Uhura and Scotty one afternoon, meeting at a Chinese place from their academy days. Scotty was sprawled in a chair, looking simultaneously exhausted, wild-eyed, and twitchy. Jim arched a brow, “What happened to Scotty?”

 

Uhura sighed, “We’ve been transporting supplies to starbases for the last six months, trying to get those closest to the Neutral Zone as stocked with supplies as possible. But every trip near the Neutral Zone means the threat of Romulan warbirds, as they aren’t really hesitating to just appear now. It’s been . . . stressful . . . and the Valiant isn’t exactly a warship. Scotty has barely slept trying to keep the engines in top condition.

 

“And now we’re going through a refit. Instead of diplomatic transport, we’re going to be supplying the warships.”

 

Jim’s schooled his features to not respond but he felt his heart leap into his throat. The casualty rates for supply ships were astronomically high. They tended to lack the shields and weapons of a warship, as well the vast majority of maneuverability. Plus, they were often sent in the middle of battles to give medical aid. If there was a full-scale war, it was unlikely the Valiant, who had more than a few years on her, would survive.

 

Silence reigned at the table and Scotty was more serious than Jim had ever seen him when he asked, “Do ye know if they’ve managed tae bring the Klingons tae the table, Captain?”

 

Jim shook his head, “No. The High Council is still refusing to send anyone for negotiations.”

 

Uhura’s gaze was unflinching, “We will lose this war without the Klingons, Captain. The Klingons will not negotiate with the Admiralty. They do not respect democracy and to them, the Admiralty is filled with nothing but bureaucrats. The Admiralty needs to give them a War Leader to speak to. Someone they know and fear, therefore respect. It will be Captain Kor they send, if they ever agree, and Kor will not meet with just anyone. He’s descended from the Imperial family and has already had an illustrious career. They are going to need to send someone big.”

 

“Pike?” Jim offered.

 

Uhura shook her head, “His injuries after the Narada are too well known. And however short sighted, the Klingons will consider his promotion as a political maneuver to cover that he lost his ship. They will not consider him a strong enough figure.”

 

Jim eyes narrowed and Uhura held up her hands, “You and I may know better, but we can’t argue with them if we can’t get them to the table. Jim, you know what I’m telling you.”

 

He released a breath slowly. He nodded, “I know.”

 

Uhura covered his hand with hers, “I know you don’t want to be a war leader. And it’s unthinkable that we go into a war without the Enterprise, without Spock. So let’s not go to war. Take the promotion. Let them give you a ship staffed with whomever the hell they want. Hopefully, you’ll never need it. But Kor will meet with you. He respects you. As does the High Council. The bounty they put on your head is proof of that. We need you, Captain.”

 

“I’ve never been a skilled diplomat,” Jim reminded her.

 

She shook her head and shot him a level glance, “You’ve never been a typical diplomat. It doesn’t mean you aren’t skilled. You’re a born tactician and fearless in battle. That makes you the only kind of diplomat the Klingons will deal with. And therefore, our best hope.”

 

 

***

 

Jim dumped his bag in the entryway of his house, releasing a deep breath and fighting the urge to squirm. Almost a year out of uniform shouldn’t have made much a difference considering how many years he had spent in uniform. But Jim felt oddly unsettled in this uniform. Perhaps it was the lack of gold. Ten years in a captain’s uniform and now he was wearing the white and grey of an admiral. He felt like he was dressing up for Halloween.

 

He heard the press of footsteps from above and smiled. Bones.

 

Bounding up the stairs, Jim made his way quickly up into the library and broke into a wide grin when he saw Bones on his couch, feet bare and propped up on the coffee table, a book in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other, Mason and Dixon snoozing below his legs. They had been much more behaved since Spock’s visit. He would never admit it, but Jim was pretty sure Spock had melded with the pups and telepathically trained them after they had destroyed his socks. Jim no longer had any worries about leaving them while he was at the Academy, the puppies spending time either with Bones or Eleanora, depending on Bones’ schedule.

 

Bones’ head turned as Jim came up the stairs and Jim could see his eyes wide just a bit, taking in the uniform.

 

They stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other. It was Bones who broke the silence, “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

 

Jim smiled, despite the odd note in Bones’ voice. Shrugging, he began making his way to the couch, dropping easily onto it, “It was inevitable, I suppose.”

 

Hazel eyes that were tinged gray today looked intently at him and Jim could read the wariness in them. “When are you moving?”

 

Jim shook his head and scooted a bit closer, slipping his hand over a jean-clad thigh, “I’m not moving to San Francisco. They’re giving me a ship.”

 

Eyes dropped but Jim could hear the sucked in breath. There was something raw in Bones’ voice when he questioned harshly, “When?”

 

Jim laid his palm against Bones’ cheek, turning him back to face him. When Leo finally lifted his eyes, Jim pressed a brief kiss to his mouth, “I don’t know. It’s not a permanent thing, my being in space. I’ll be commanding the USS Perseus; she’ll be the new flagship. She’s not the Enterprise, but she’s a beauty. Only three years old. They’re calling her in but she’s near the beta quadrant. It’ll take a couple of months.”

 

“And then?”

 

“I’ll be gone for a couple of months,” Jim said it quietly. “I can’t really talk too much about it.” A shrug and a slight smile, “A diplomatic mission.”

 

“The Klingons.”

 

Bones’ voice was sure. He and Jim often talked politics, particularly when Pike was over at his mother’s _visiting_. Bones knew more about what was going on than most civilians and knew what Pike wanted Kirk for.

 

Blue eyes became earnest; “I’ve put it off for too long. Not that I think the Klingons would have come to the table any earlier, but we’re simply running out of time.”

 

Bones only nodded his agreement. Jim watched as he closed in on himself more and remembered what Eleanora had told him all those months before. Jim shoved his shoulder into Leo’s, “Bones, I can’t not do anything. If the Klingons will talk with me, then I’ll talk.”

 

“Klingons don’t talk, Jim,” Bones snorted, “they fight. And they can’t be trusted.”

 

Jim smiled, “That’s what they say about us. The Federation and the Klingon Empire have never had easy relations. I don’t doubt that had Nero not interfered and Romulus not become more aggressive as a result, we would have fought a war against each other. But we have a common enemy that is an eminent threat. We need each other to survive this. This may be the only opportunity to make lasting peace between us for a while. And maybe, just maybe, we can advert a war or two while we do.”

 

Leo just sighed, “You’re supposed to be retired.”

 

“I’m thirty-two, Bones. Plenty of years left in me yet. Hell, even my mother is talking about taking up command again if war breaks out and god help us all then.”

 

A snort and wry laughter, “Christ on a stick, Jim. Just let your mother have a ship. She’ll have the war won in no time.”

 

Jim smiled but his eyes were serious, “Maybe. But I’ve learned that no one is invincible. My mother barely survived one encounter with a crazed Romulan. If I can avoid putting her in the line of fire of more, I will.”

 

When Bones winced apologetically, Jim settled beside him, stealing his glass and taking a drink. “It isn’t just her though. It’s Scotty and Uhura, who are having their ship refit to be a wartime supply ship. The likelihood of their survival is less than twenty-three percent. That number goes down to less than five percent if the war lasts more than three months, which it will.

 

“Sulu and Chekov are patrolling the Neutral zone. They are in a constellation class warship. They’ve been attacked three times in the last month. Their ship has sustained significant damage and they’ve lost thirteen crew members. But we can’t afford to take them off patrol just yet. So they’re still out there, waiting for the next Romulan warbird to de-cloak and take their best shot.

 

“Spock commed me to let me know that the first test against New Vulcan’s defense system was made three days ago. A small, Romulan probe was taken out over their capital city and five more over the other three continents. The Romulans were testing their security, trying to find weaknesses. Contingency plans for evacuation have been made. They know that if it comes to war, there won’t be enough ships to protect them.

 

“And Gaila has discovered the existence of twenty new Orion slaving ships, preparing to hit the outer Federation planets the minute our attention is turned. Ten thousand life forms can be held on one slaving ship. That’s twenty new ships, in addition to the ones they already have, and we think there are well over hundred. They are all heavily fortified. It would not be unthinkable for them to load them up and literally turn the slaving ships into a human blockade defense of the Romulan fleet. Neither the Syndicate or the Star Empire would hesitate to do so.

 

“And it can be avoided, Bones. It has to be avoided.”

 

“And you’re the person that’s going to do it.”

 

Jim nodded – confident but not arrogant. He knew he could, like he knew he could save Earth from the Narada. Knew because the alternative was no alternative at all. War was a no-win situation. So Jim had to once again change the conditions. And the answer was the Klingons.

 

Jim watched as Bones emptied the glass he had stolen back, watched as he stared into as if it held answers he was looking for. Watched as he turned his head and as his eyes clouded with something soft, “So one day they’ll call you and you’ll be gone.”

 

At that, Jim’s hands came up and framed Leo’s face. The heaviness that Jim had felt since he’d put on the uniform he knew stemmed from this moment. Jim had left plenty of people behind the first time he’d left for Starfleet. But he’d never left anyone he wanted to come back to.  And for the first time, Jim was afraid he wouldn’t come back. That he would miss seeing Bones in the dappled, Georgia sunlight, miss seeing him grimace, scowl, and then smile so suddenly it was like the dart of a hummingbird.

 

Jim’s thumbs traced those lush lips and took a moment to regret that Henry hadn’t managed to convince Bones to sign up for Starfleet. He would have been an amazing CMO. And then Jim would never have to leave him behind.

 

It was that thought, more than anything, that prompted Jim to look into those eyes and make a promise he never had before, “I’ll come back.”

 

 

 

And so it was with a sweet urgency that Jim’s lips were taken and Jim immediately became lost in the newness of it. They had been many things with each other in the months since they had become lovers. Rough, playful, desperate, lazy, rushed, greedy, but never sweet. It was an intimacy both men had avoided, a concession of emotions they weren’t supposed to have. Because sweet sex would never be easy for them, never be without a vulnerability that was best hidden.

 

But the instinct to hide could not withstand the knowledge that their time was limited. Even with Jim’s promise, Leo knew all too well he might never come back. Henry didn’t.

 

So if there was a fine tremor in Leo’s surgeon hands as they traced achingly over dark brows and full lips, neither man spoke of it, but savored it. Jim nipped at those fingertips, gently gliding his tongue against sensitive pads before nuzzling a kiss into a broad palm that was as much a promise as an apology.

 

It was Bones who led them from the library, into Jim’s bedroom. More new territory for them. It had never been verbalized, but Jim’s house was mostly out of bounds for anything more than visits. It had felt too separate, too much like an affair. The result was that Jim (and Mason and Dixon) had basically moved into the McCoy’s house and bed. Jim only returning home to work and change, and sometimes to make use of the library he loved when Leo and Jocelyn were working long hours.

 

So Bones had never pushed Jim onto his own bed before, never slowly undressed him under the soft yellow light the antique light fixtures provided.

 

It was with new and infinite patience that Bones claimed Jim’s body. Hands traced pleas into pectoral muscles, denials into abdominal ridges, vows over narrow hips. Sensitive fingertips wrote words that could not be spoken into muscled, trembling thighs and soft lips brushed over them, transforming them into promises that could not be made.

 

Jim’s voice remained silent—lost under the outpouring of what couldn’t be. All he could do was sigh and arch under each touch. He could not speak nor grasp, could only exist in the between of what was and what was wanted.

 

Kisses were exchanged as softly and randomly as the dance of dandelion seeds upon the wind. Touches were met and matched, a pas de deux in perfect silence.

 

And when Jim slid into Bones for the first time, there were no cries or words. There was only the ecstatic arch of a neck, the reverent glide of lips, and a cadence that whispered rather than screamed.

 

When the whispers subsided and bodies trembled, it was two men who lived between what was and what was wanted, their entwined limbs were . . .

an acknowledgment

 _(You cannot stay_.)

and a promise. 

 _(I will come back_.)

 

 


	9. The Countdown

 

 _Day Eight_

 

 

Two months later, Jim was sitting on the desk in the lecture hall, going through a review for his fourth-year Tactical class. There was a tension in them that had nothing to do with the upcoming final as they quizzed Jim on Romulan tactics, weapons, maneuvers, cloaking devices, etc.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pike slip unobtrusively into the hall—his face closed and eyes steely. Jim forced himself not to sigh.

 

 _Dammit_.

 

Another of his students asked him to recount a skirmish the Enterprise had with a Romulan commander and this time Jim actually did sigh. He held up his hands, “Hey, all of you need to calm down. I mean, I know I’m awesome but even I can’t single handedly defeat the Romulan Star Empire.”

 

There was some laughter and some eye rolling at that. Jim shook his head pitifully. They’d all started out with such awe on their faces. His lips quirking, he surveyed the young faces lined with worry. “Look, obviously the situation with Romulus is on everyone’s mind. And the fact that you all have been put on alert isn’t helping matters. Yes, learning the habits of your enemies is important. But the Star Empire is not the only enemy the Federation has.

 

“And your allies may not always be allies. The best tacticians don’t memorize the exact maneuvers of an enemy. They learn to read the intent behind the movements, to see the motivation, to look for patterns, to find _multiple_ responses so there is an alternate plan when the first one becomes completely fucked. And it will. Because war isn’t the Kobiyashu Maru. This isn’t a computer sim. And there is a solution. There is always a solution . . . you just have force yourself to see beyond the conditions of the problem.

 

“We are on the brink of war. Logic dictates that we prepare ourselves as much as possible. But does anyone really think that fighting Romulus will reveal the answer to peace? I want you to think on that.

 

“There will be battle maneuvers on your final. It’s important to know them. But there will also be essays and I’ll give you a gift. One of them will be on Romulus’ motivations for war and possible deterrents for them. This will include why they would ally with the Orion Syndicate. So, I am dismissing you from class. Go, think unconventional thoughts, grab a beer. Don’t let yourself get caught up in the details. Now shoo.”

 

He was glad to see a tiny bit of tension had drained from their faces and Jim stayed put while they began to clear out. When the last cadet left, it was only Jim and Pike, Pike sitting at a seat in the back. He was leaning back and offered Jim a smile, “They love you, you know. We’ve gotten great feedback on your classes so far.”

 

Jim pushed himself off the desk and began throwing stuff into his bag. Mason and Dixon were snoozing on a pillow under his desk, as Bones had three scheduled surgeries today, Jocelyn was in court, Hallie was in school, and Eleanora was preparing her own classes for finals. It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck them into his courses and typically they ended up snoozing near a couple of favored students who thought Jim couldn’t see them sneak the pups food.

 

But Jim had taken them for a long run this morning in order to completely exhaust them. And now they were sprawled under the desk, attempting to share a pillow they’d already outgrown.

 

He looked up at Pike, “You come to tell me I’m being elected instructor of the year?”

 

“No.”

 

Jim dug out the leashes, “Didn’t think so.”

 

It was time. Adrenaline flooded his system, priming him in a way he hadn’t felt in a year. “Kor agreed. When?”

 

Pike rose gracefully to his feet. Unless he was tired, it was impossible to tell that a fair chunk of his spinal cord had been regenerated. He came to the front of the auditorium and met Jim’s eyes evenly, “Eight days. You’ll take the USS Perseus and head to Organia. The Organians have agreed to host the talks.”

 

“Whose idea was that?” Jim demanded. “One, we may need this alliance but it is beyond stupid to send a the flagship so far away from the central planets to the Klingon system. Particularly when we think that talks will aggravate the Romulans. It would have made more sense to demand that the Klingons meet us closer to Federation space.”

 

Pike’s mouth twisted, “Ah, Captain Kor declined our request.”

 

“We requested?” The incredulity in Jim’s voice cause Pike to wince. “What the fuck is the admiralty doing? Once they accepted, we should have set the location and demanded they meet us there. It’s what they would have expected. Who the fuck is making my job harder?”

 

“Komack. He insisted on taking point on this, despite the fact that Archer or Nogura have more standing within the Empire. He, ah, Jim, he’s sending a diplomat with you.”

 

Jim looked at Pike, dumbfounded. He shouldn’t be. Komack was an ass. Muttering under his breath he searched through his bag and pulled out a flask, taking a deep pull before offering it to Pike. He shot Jim a scolding look before taking it and perching on the edge of the desk as Jim sat in his chair. After a companionable moment, Jim looked up at him, “And what does he think this diplomat is going to do, exactly?”

 

Pike smirked, “Advance Komack’s agenda. Really, I think Komack just wants to be crowned as the Federation’s savior. You’ve been hogging the title for eleven years now. He wants a turn.”

 

Ice blue eyes rolled but Jim stayed quiet. He would deal with the diplomat later. Eight days.  Looks like he would be missing Christmas. And have another birthday spent in space.

 

 _Hopefully this one will go better than the first._

 

Pike stood, “What do you need?”

 

Jim’s brows arched, “My crew.”

 

“You’re asking for two captains, an xo, and a chief engineer.”

 

Jim shrugged, “You’re sending me because I’ve done things other people either can’t or won’t. But I did them because I had the best crew in the fleet. I’m sure the Perseus crew performs admirably. But I don’t know them, they don’t know me, and this isn’t exactly shore leave we’re going into. You know we’ll run into Romulans on the way, seeking to stop the meeting. Getting to Organia will be just as difficult, if not more so, than convincing the Klingons to make an alliance. I need a crew I can depend on.”

 

“And an XO?”

 

Jim arched a brow and smiled, “You available?”

 

Pike just snorted, “I’m above your pay grade, kid. How about Spock? Think we can get him back for this?”

 

Jim shook his head, “T’Pring’s pregnant. Spock won’t leave her and I can’t ask him to put her in harm’s way.”

 

Pike’s eyebrows shot up at the news of T’Pring’s pregnancy but he agreed with Jim. Besides, Sarek would have Pike’s head if he even thought about putting the heir to the House of Surak in danger. With so many lines completely wiped out with the death of Vulcan, Sarek’s family had risen to even further prominence. With Elder Selek/Spock, T’Pau, and Sarek they had three seats on the Vulcan Council of Elders. Pike really didn’t need the Vulcan Council logically arguing him to death for putting Spock, T’Pring, and their unborn child on a moving target.

 

As for the rest of the crew, “Jim, I can’t pull . . .”

 

“You can.” Jim’s tone was not at all playful. “Look, I realize that leaves two ships without command teams, but we can get them back easily enough if we have to go to war. But we just might advert war.”

 

“And if you don’t survive the meeting? We’ll have lost the three best captains in the fleet.”

 

Eyes whose intensity could shake the most stalwart Klingon were completely serious, “It won’t matter if we go to war.”

 

Jim didn’t so much as flinch under Pike’s scrutiny. Finally Pike nodded, “All right, I’ll get you your crew. Providing they agree to leave their ships, of course. I won’t order them.”

 

If there was anything in this world Jim knew he could count on, it was his crew. And so the smile that touched his face was completely sincere, “You won’t have to.”

 

 

***

 

 

Jim opened the door for Mason and Dixon to jump out, the young dogs racing forward to the front door of the McCoy house. Bones opened the door at the first excited bark and Jim smiled tiredly as he made his way up. The closer he got the more clearly he could see Bones’ own exhaustion on his face. One of the surgeries must not have gone well.

 

Bones didn’t speak, but simply wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and brought Jim forward into his body.

 

Jim felt Bones’ head drop to his shoulders, hands clutching his shoulders and sinking into Jim taking as much comfort as he was giving. After a long moment, he stepped back and pulled him into the house, “You’re ho . . . you’re late.”

 

A smile touched the corner of Jim’s mouth at the near slip. _Home_. Leo’s house basically was home. Jim spent far more time there than he did at his own house. At first it had been an inevitable by-product of their arrangement. Jocelyn and Leo were here, so Jim was as well.

 

But then he had started coming by even when sex wasn’t imminent, which of course led to Jim having separate encounters with Bones and Jocelyn, rather than them always being together. On days Leo couldn’t get away from the hospital, Jim would spend the evening with Jocelyn. When Jocelyn was working on a case, Jim would be with Bones. Neither seemed to object and so Jim didn’t really worry about it. Nor did he notice, perhaps purposefully, that things weren’t exactly balanced in the McCoy-Kirk arrangement.

 

He dumped his bag on the entrance way table, following Leo to the kitchen, “Where’s Joce?”

 

“She got a room in Atlanta as she’s gonna be pulling late nights this week. The case goes to trial next week, so we aren’t gonna see much of her ’til its over.”

 

Jim just plopped himself onto a stool, exhausted and feeling a knot of tension in his stomach beginning to build. But Leo looked equally exhausted. Now wasn’t the time. He’d tell him tomorrow.

 

“You going to the hospital tomorrow?”

 

Leo snorted as he began pulling things out of the refrigerator, “My head nurse banned me. Said I’d been there too long and there was going to be a rebellion if I hung around any longer. So it looks like I’ve got tomorrow off.”

 

Jim smiled weakly, “Me too.”

 

A varied list of ingredients had been built and Jim’s stomach gave a happy rumble. Stir-fry. Reaching across the island, he pulled some vegetables and a knife closer to him, taking up his chopping duties while Bones started the chicken in the wok. They worked in companionable silence which was only broken when Jim grabbed them a couple of beers and Bones murmured his thanks.

 

When everything was in the wok, Jim came up behind Bones and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his chin to a broad shoulder, “You okay?”

 

Tension slowly melted out of Bones’ frame and soon his head was dropping back, “Yeah, mostly. We lost a young guy today. Early twenties, college student. Got wasted in some bar and left alone. Looks like he was mugged, and after they took his credit chip, they bashed his head in. Left him in the bushes of the parking lot. No one found him until this morning. They brought him in but it was too late by then, too much damage. A few hours earlier and he would have pulled through. But he was simply too far gone and his parents elected to pull the plug.

 

Bones sighed, “A damn waste of life and for what? A couple hundred credits? Kid was studying to be a biologist. Supposed to graduate in the spring.”

 

Jim said nothing, just tightened his arms. He knew that this was the hardest part of being a surgeon for Leo. It wasn’t the lost patients that haunted Bones, it was the lost futures. He cared too much for them to simply be ‘patients’. They were people with a story and a future. And when Bones lost someone, he always met the family, told them personally, found out a little about the person who his hands couldn’t save. It was the lost possibilities he mourned.

 

So Jim just held him a moment longer, pressing in closely and absorbing some of the grief into himself. After a while Bones roused himself, stirred stir-fry on the brink of burning, and squeezed Jim’s hand in silent appreciation.

 

It was after dinner, when they were both settled in front of a fire, leaning into each other on the living room couch, that Leo asked some of the questions Jim was hoping to avoid, “What kept you so late?”

 

His whisky became a sudden opportunity to stall, which was, of course, ineffective. Bones was blessed with a fair amount patience when he wanted. So he simply relaxed his head into Jim’s shoulder and waited for the younger man to crack. Which he did soon enough, “Pike came by, had some paperwork for me.”

 

He had been hoping that would be general enough but Bones’ body immediately tensed against him. Jim, who was supporting Bones’ upper body, ran a hand over his chest, soothing wordlessly. Ineffectively.

 

For it was only a minute later when he asked, “When?”

 

A heavy sigh escaped Jim before he could prevent it and he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, “Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow?”

 

“That soon, huh?” Bones snorted, amusement nowhere to be found. “Just tell me when, Jim. It’s all I’m gonna be thinking about anyway.”

 

“Eight days.”

 

Silence met that but he had gone even more rigid in Jim’s arms. Finally, Jim set his glass down and with a quick move, had twisted and rolled Bones under him on the couch, hips pinned down by Jim’s weight and Jim stacked his chin atop hands resting on Bones’ chest. He had given a slight grunt and mutter at being pinned, but otherwise continued to stare at the ceiling. Jim poked a lip, “Bones, you’re quiet. It’s freaking me out.”

 

Hazel eyes met his and Leo gave a snort, “You’re the one who can’t shut up usually.”

 

“You love my sexy voice. I talk only to keep you in a state of hyper-arousal. But despite this true fact, I call bullshit,” Jim kept his voice purposefully light. “You’re not exactly the silent type. And if you were pissed off, you’d be yelling right now. But you’re quiet. Quiet equals worried.

 

“But, Bones, there’s nothing to be worried about. I’ll be fine. Actually, I’ll be awesome.”

 

“You’re thirty-two years old. Don’t you think it’s time to retire the use of awesome?”

 

Jim offered a cocky grin, blue eyes twinkling, “It will only be retired when my own awesomeness is retired. So never, Bonesy.”

Leo growled at that, lips twitching when Jim laughed at him. His hand came up and traced the laughter on those lips, “Yeah, cause getting the Klingons to agree to peace is gonna be easy and getting past the Romulans looking to stop such a meeting is even easier.”

 

“It’s not like we sent them an invitation, Bones. Hypothetically, they don’t even know the when or where the meet is occurring.”

 

Hazel eyes rolled in derision, “Please, don’t treat me like a moron. Fucking Starfleet couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives.”

 

Jim nearly shrugged. It was both true and untrue. Starfleet could cover things up like no one’s business, but keeping quiet from the get go was a little harder. Particularly since Komack had seen fit to involve the diplomatic corps. Those pansies couldn’t keep their mouths shut and Jim had no doubt that the Romulans would know all too soon when the meet was taking place, if they didn’t already.

 

“It’s been labeled as beyond classified, so that will help a little. It also means you can’t tell anyone where I’ve gone.”

 

“I don’t _know_ where you’re going,” Bones muttered.

“Okay, you can’t tell anyone that I’ve gone off to play with the Klingons. And no, I can’t tell you where exactly I’ll be.”

 

“Who asked?” Bones countered, working his way from worried to irritated, as Jim intended.

 

Jim’s smile was smug, “You know you want to know.”

 

“What I want to know,” Leo growled, hazel eyes slowly melting in the gold Jim loved, “is that no one is gonna try to blow a hole in your ship, or beat you into the ground because it’s fucking _honorable_.”

 

“Does it help to know that if someone tries to shoot a hole in my ship I’m gonna shoot back? Or if someone takes a swing at me, you can bet your ass I’m gonna swing back?”

 

“Yes, because the thought of you in hand to hand combat with a goddamn Klingon is exactly what I need to make me sleep easier at night. And who the hell is gonna be patching you up? You didn’t come back in such good shape the last time you were in space.”

 

“Hey!” Jim objected. “Chapel did a great job. My leg is like brand new. Besides, she kept me alive for ten years. What’s another month?”

 

Large, sensitive hands came up and framed Jim’s face, tracing over thick brows and the beginnings of laugh lines around his eyes. Bones stayed silent and the air was thick with things unsaid.

 

Jim luxuriated under the petting and he shifted to settle completely against Leo, letting himself sink into him, savoring the feel. He couldn’t deny that there was a part of him thrumming with eagerness to get back in space. He was James T. Kirk after all and a part of him would always belong amongst the stars.

 

But Bones had changed a lot for Jim. The past six months had shown Jim that not only could he _do_ domesticity, but he could also love it. And he did. There was something comforting and satisfying about coming home and finding Bones there, having dinner together, talking and laughing together. There was something ritualistic about it and something necessary.

 

So the thought of leaving it behind, of leaving Bones behind, bothered Jim. As did the possibility that he wouldn’t return. Which was new for Jim.

 

It had been a surprise for Jim when he’d turned thirty. He’d honestly never expected to see the third decade of his life. Starfleet was dangerous. Being a captain was dangerous. And Jim was hardly a typical captain. He went on away missions and always took point on the more dangerous ones. He’d been injured more in his ten years than any captain before him, because he would ask nothing of his crew he wasn’t willing to do himself. Would sacrifice himself for any member of his crew, as they would for him. And a part of that mentality had been the belief that he was living on borrowed time and would soon have to give it back.

 

And he’d been okay with that thought. But now he wanted to continue to borrow. Wasn’t ready to part with what he had accumulated.

 

So he held Bones close, pressed his face to the curve between his neck and shoulder, and savored the warmth of this man. Minutes, maybe hours, later, Jim whispered, “Keep Mason and Dixon for me?”

 

“Until you come back,” was the answer he received.

 

 

***

 

 _Day Seven_

 

“Bones. Oh Boooones!” Jim sang out, bouncing lightly on the bed.

 

Leo kept his eyes closed, though he had been awake since the first bounce. They had stayed up late, staying on the couch into the early hours of the morning, past the point where all that remained of the fire were embers. They hadn’t spoken or done anything but stay exactly where they were.

 

When Jim finally pulled Leo up and moved them upstairs, Leo had been relieved when they had simply undressed and gotten into bed, Jim taking up the same position in his arms. He’d spent most of the night just holding Jim, running his fingers over his shoulders and arms, trying not to panic at the flood of panic running through him.

 

It shouldn’t have been shocking. All the signs were there. But somehow, in the haze of happiness of the last six months, Leo had simply missed it.

 

He’d thought it . . . well, really he had refused to think about it all. Much easier that way. To live in denial required effort, but to live in ignorance was an effortless endeavor. So he didn’t think about the fact that it wasn’t normal to have a six-month ménage trios without defining it as something else. Wasn’t normal to basically have moved another man into his marital home without a more formalized relationship. Jocelyn had seemed happy, Jim seemed happy, and Leo was happy. Why upset that by talking about it?

 

He had never expected it to last this long. And he would be completely baffled by it if he didn’t remember those moments when Jim would get quiet, like he was thinking of leaving, and Leo would pull him close and kiss him senseless. Or the moments where Jim and Jocelyn would spend time together without him and he’d have to bite his tongue to keep from making a vicious comment about it. The only time he’d had, Jim had asked him quietly if Leo wanted to end whatever it was that they were doing. Leo had never commented on their separate encounters again and refused to wonder if the flare of jealousy he felt was on Jocelyn or Jim’s behalf.

 

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when Jim had murmured _eight days_ and pure panic shot through Leo’s system. Shouldn’t have been a surprise when he’d wanted to simply refuse to let Jim go. Shouldn’t have been a surprise when he felt the fear that only came with love.

 

A repeated, “Bones!” And a sharp poke to his ribs had Leo jolting out of his own head, blinking his eyes open to see laughter trembling on lips and eyes dancing. “Wake up. I’ve made plans for us. Come on, Bones, put some clothes on!”

 

Jim’s features might have been a little bleary but Leo could see the deliberate excitement on Jim’s face. And he knew him well enough to see the growing sharpness beneath it. He was becoming a captain again, but had decided, for this morning at least, to ignore it. And he needed Leo’s help with that.

 

“What could you possible want at -?”

 

Leo was too busy reaching for a clock to see Jim shiver at his drawl, always thickest late at night or early in the morning. “Fuckin’ _seven_ inna mornin’. Sweet Jesus, Jim, go away.”

 

Bringing a pillow over his face, he huffed and closed his eyes once more onto feel Jim tugging at the pillow, “Come on, Bones, I have a surprise for you.”

 

“If this surprise is in your pants, I’ll kill you,” is what was muttered from underneath the pillow.

 

Rolling his eyes, Jim leaned forward and kissed that spot between clavicle bones, “Come on, get up. I have coffee waiting for you. Coffee that I went into down and got directly from Mrs. McAllister, made just the way you like it.”

 

At that a single eye peeked out from around the pillow and studied Jim suspiciously, “Coffee?”

 

Jim nodded, “Yup, and it’s downstairs, waiting for you. Probably starting to get cold.”

 

A loud groan sounded and Leo threw off the blankets, “Fine. But I swear, Jim . . .”

 

Leo rolled to his feet and stood in a daze for a moment, rumpled and sleepy, momentarily trying to figure out which way was the bathroom. Jim darted in, pressed a firm kiss to his mouth and gave him a push in the right direction, calling after him, “I swear what?”

He ignored that. _Yankees_.

 

Five minutes later, he was pulling on a thick sweater as he made his way downstairs, to find Jim at the bottom of the steps holding promised coffee.

 

Snatching it out of his hand, Leo took a deep pull of the caffeine and sighed in bliss before turning his gaze to Jim, “So why am I awake?”

 

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

 

 

Twenty minutes later they were pulling off a trail and into a meadow that Leo used to play in as a child. Spread out were large blankets, a couple of pillows (which were immediately pounced on by Mason and Dixon who had run alongside the horses), a large basket that Leo was desperately hoping was food, and a small light that must have been lit while it was still dark.

 

A rush of emotion rose up in him and he swallowed deeply, preventing it from spilling out in an uncontrolled rush. Instead, he took Jim’s hand and led them to the blanket, brushing a kiss over his forehead as they nudged Mason and Dixon aside and settled onto the pillows, pulling a thick blanket over them.

 

 

 

Clearly the intent had been for them to watch the sunrise, which Leo would mock Jim mercilessly for as soon as he wasn’t near imminent death. But instead, they had spent their time bickering, laughing, sometimes exchanging food, and quietly talking.  

 

Mason and Dixon had entertained themselves by gingerly padding through the cold pond water and running back out, forcing Leo and Jim to take cover under the blanket to avoid wet sprinkles. They occasionally crept forward to be fed by Leo who had no will power in resisting those dark brown eyes, even if Jim muttered that they would be fat by the time he got back.

 

“Seriously, Bones, how can you yell at me for eating bacon but feed them whatever they want?”

 

Leo just shrugged a shoulder and pushed Jim back onto a pillow, levering himself over him. There was powdered sugar dusting Jim’s lips, remnants from the almond croissant he had eaten despite Leo’s glares and offering of fresh fruit. Humming in appreciation of that now, Leo leaned up and delicately licked the sugar off, feeling Jim’s hands gently skate up underneath his sweater.

 

It should have been an abysmal failure, a picnic in the middle of winter. But Jim, a master survivalist, had set the scene well and Leo felt perfectly warm in the blankets that surrounded them. So while he normally would flatly refused to have outdoors sex in the middle of winter, he didn’t hesitate to strip off both of their sweaters, pulling the blanket over both of their heads and cocooning them in warmth and darkness.

 

It was like a signal they had been waiting for and suddenly clothes were being frantically stripped off, pushed to the bottom of the blankets. Leo smashed his mouth into Jim’s, licking, sucking, biting and pulling, as his hands feverishly ran over his hips and thighs, just skimming touches over a cock as hard as his, enjoying the whimpers that resulted.

 

Light couldn’t penetrate through the thick blanket and the loss of one sense only enhanced the others. Leo touched by sound, the hitch in Jim’s breath, the sighs, gasps, and occasional moans. Jim’s legs came up and wrapped around his waist, bring Leo’s body crashing against his, and making them both moan when their cocks slid together.

 

Suddenly Jim was wriggling under him and Leo felt a hard tube being pushed against his hand. Dark laughter, thick and rich as molasses, filled their cocoon, rumbling over Jim’s skin and causing the man to buck his hips into Leo, whimpering and whispering, “Please, please, please, Bones. Please, need you so much.”

 

Leo popped the top, grateful he didn’t need his other hand to unscrew it, and quickly prepared both of them. With one quick, greedy twist of his hips, he was sliding Jim open, feeling his legs clench around his wait, hearing his breath stop, feeling calloused fingertips digging into his triceps.

 

There was a brief pause only, before Leo surged forward and buried himself in a place warmer and darker than their cocoon, shuddering at the tightness, the clenching welcome. Sweat was running down his back and over his temples, and Leo could feel the soft pants of Jim’s breath blowing against it, making little shudders ripple down his spine.

 

Leaning forward, Leo rested his head against Jim’s shoulder, pressing desperate kisses and gently teething marks into his neck as his hips began moving, feeling each inch pull out, and then crying out when Jim tightened himself around Leo’s cock as he pushed back in. _Fuck_.

 

He wasn’t, couldn’t, God, definitely couldn’t last long. A hand wormed between them and wrapped around Jim’s erection, throbbing between them, leaking precum across both of their bellies. Leo jerked his wrist in time to the thrusts his hips were making, biting down on Jim’s shoulder when he arched beneath Leo, spreading his knees further apart and panting, “More, fuck, Bones, more!”

 

After which there were only the sounds of hips slapping together, moans muffled against damp skin, hands grasping eagerly. Leo tilted those hips upwards another couple of degrees and grinned viciously when a sharp cry issued from Jim’s swollen lips, and the cock in his hand gave a deep throb before shooting hot come and splattering over Jim’s chest.

 

It released Leo from the tension gripping him and he ceased to hear Jim’s grateful, shuddering breaths and soft, helpless moans. It was all heat and grip, firm skin and flexing muscles. And then it was only the pulse of his heart, hammering in tandem with the pulse of his flesh. It was only coming and thrusting, hips viciously thrilling to each glide through an increasingly sloppy channel, fucking his semen deeper inside so no part of Jim could remain unclaimed.

 

Even after Leo could shoot no further, when his hips had canted into a slower, grinding rhythm, he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop touching and tasting, sucking Jim’s come off his chest, sharing it with Jim’s tongue, licking and sucking in turn. Their breaths wrapped around each other as much as their bodies had and both men refused to separate even the tiniest bit.

 

Jim had slid his hands onto Leo’s ass, clutching and kneading, his legs sliding down until their ankles were wrapped together. Leo gasped at the sensation of Jim tightening further around him and both men felt his cock harden just a bit in appreciation.

 

Come was beginning to trickle out of Jim and Leo groaned when he felt rough fingers scoop it up and then it was being spread between the cheeks, probing fingers gently sliding in to the first knuckle.

 

“ _Jim_ ,” Leo whispered and was shushed softly, lips pressing against his.

 

His cock responded with each press forward, and Leo couldn’t help arching back, pulling his cock a little further out of Jim, much to the other man’s displeasure. The two fingers slid in deeper, the flat of his hand pushing Leo’s buttocks down, pushing his now completely hardened cock back into Jim.

 

Relinquishing control, Leo only groaned and obediently moved his hips in rhythm to the fingers fucking him so skillfully, stopping when they stopped, pushing hard when they fucked into him desperately, grinding when they curled forward and slowly stroked over his prostate. He could only follow as Jim led, fucking himself into oblivion as Jim rubbed his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves until Leo was coming helplessly.

 

He suddenly found himself flipped over, on his back with Jim twisting off his cock, and crying out when the fingers were replaced with the thick length of Jim’s cock, sliding in easily and quickly, setting up a desperate rhythm, hands lifting Leo’s knees up and apart.

 

Leo could only trace his hands over Jim’s chest, pinching nipples and soothing over arms, comforting and arousing as Jim sought his own completion. He was drilling repeatedly into Leo’s prostate, keeping his cock long and flushed wide with arousal if not exactly hard. So it was somewhat a surprise when Leo felt his third orgasm sweep through him, pulling his hips upward and making his cock dribble come without ever hardening. Jim was shuddering into him, falling forward on his hands as his hips bucked wildly, which Leo was only partially aware of, entranced by this new kind of orgasm sweeping through him. It was powerful but gentle, wracking and soothing him by turns, making him swear even as tears pricked his eyes. Thoroughly confused but completely satisfied, Leo gathered Jim into his arms, holding him close, not even making a move to air out the scent of sweat and semen.

 

Instead he held him close and didn’t let himself think about how much this felt like a goodbye. Didn’t let himself think about the words Jim was kissing silently into neck, or the moisture he felt gathering in the curve of his neck, too cool to be sweat.

 

No, it wasn’t the time to think. So he didn’t. He just wrapped himself around Jim and breathed, sinking into every “ _Mine_ ,” whispered.

 

 

***

 

 _Day Five_

 

However guilty it made him feel, Leo couldn’t help but be grateful that this case required Jocelyn to stay in Atlanta. He didn’t think he would have been able to gracefully share Jim over the last couple of days.

 

As much as he didn’t want to talk about it, he hadn’t been able to help feeling resentful of every call Jim’d had to take, the two surgeries Leo had been pulled for, the time they needed to eat.

 

He and Jim had otherwise stayed locked in Jim’s house, mostly unclothed, mostly wrapped around each other. Sometimes they would read or just sit in front of a fire, quietly discussing the things they needed to do in the new year, as if Jim weren’t leaving on what was possibly the most dangerous mission of his career. Leo ignored his mother’s worried calls, ignored the voice whispering _tell him_ more and more insistently, ignored everything that wasn’t Jim in his arms.

 

Which of course, could only last so long. Jim had to return San Francisco for paperwork that needed to be done in person, an inspection of the Perseus, greet his crew who had arrived at headquarters, and visit his mother. He would be gone for a couple days. _Day three_ , Leo counted in his head.

 

He had lingered in the bed, _their_ bed, he thought illicitly, well past when Jim had left. Leo had taken off the next five days from the hospital so unless there was an emergency surgery, he had every intention of wallowing in his misery and simply waiting for Jim to come back. It made him sad and pathetic, he knew, he just didn’t give a fuck.

 

And while he would probably be less miserable if he had a surgery or two to take his mind off things, he didn’t want the possibility of Jim returning early to empty house. The bastard would wait until Leo was home, never informing him he’d returned early because Leo’s surgeries were _more important_. Part of Leo was grateful that Jim wasn’t at all bothered by the demanding hours Leo put in, a part simply wanted to grab him and shake him. Dammit, _Jim_ was important.

 

Deciding he had brooded in Jim’s bed long enough, he threw on his clothes, grabbed Mason and Dixon, and headed home. After showering and making a fresh batch of coffee, he settled into his office and pulled out the massive pile of paperwork that always seemed to accumulate. It had been bad as a surgeon; it increased exponentially when one was the head of the fucking department. He got stuck with an insane amount of paperwork and there was only so much he could foist off on his secretary, bless her heart.

 

Three hours into the pile of hell, the household comm chimed and Leo looked over to see documents from their family lawyer, flagged as important. Brows lifted in surprise and Leo reached over, wondering what he could possibly be comming them about. He and Jocelyn rarely used the McCoy family lawyer, unless it had something to do with his dad’s estate. Jocelyn took care of everything else.

 

Opening the message, he found an attachment and opened it, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping as he read through it. He read through it again. And once more. He was out the door less than ten minutes later, a printed copy of the attachment clutched in his hands.

 

 

***

 

 

Jocelyn jolted when her office door slammed open, swimming up from the fog of legalese running through her already crammed brain. The PADD screen blanched at the stabbing of her stylus and she looked up to see Leo looming in the doorway, “Christ, Leo, you scared the crap out of me!”

 

Her brows drew together confused as she read the deadly fury written across his brow, the confusion and hurt in eyes turned bluish by his navy sweater. He stalked forward, and Jocelyn saw her secretary for a brief moment, hands lifted helplessly before the wooden door slammed in her face.

 

She flinched back from the papers thrown at her desk, looking incredulously at her husband looming over her, but feeling a knot build in her stomach. A knot that firmed when his voice rasped, low and dangerous, “What the fuck is this, Jocelyn?”

 

Swallowing, pressing her fingers into the desk, she looked down at the papers to find the copy of the preliminary divorce agreement she’d had drawn up staring at her. Trembling fingers lifted to her lips and her eyes slammed shut. _Shit, shit, shit!_

 

She hadn’t intended to discuss this with Leo and Jim until after January. Had wanted one last Christmas with them, had wanted to hold on just a little longer, even as the practical part of her began preparing for the inevitable.

 

Tears, heavy and thick, built up behind her eyes, and she stood on shaky feet, taking a step forward, “Please, Leo, please, just . . . just let me explain.”

 

His visage darkened further, “Oh, you’re going to explain? Rather than just send me fucking _divorce_ papers without mentioning a GODDAMN THING!!!!!”

 

At this roar she flinched and was immediately grateful her office was sound proof. Squaring her shoulders, and forcing the tears back, she looked steadily at her husband, the only man she’d ever loved. “Don’t you raise your voice to me, Leonard Horatio McCoy! You’re shocked and angry and you have every right to be. But you will _not_ scream at me. Now sit down and let me explain.”

 

Leo held her gaze for a long minute, Jocelyn refusing to allow herself to flinch away, before stepping back and dropping onto the couch, his head in his hands. Jocelyn moved around her desk and perched next to him, reaching across and slipping her hand onto his shoulder. At the touch, he turned to her, anger subdued to a simmer and confusion rising, “What is this, Joce?”

 

A million thoughts bombarded her, a thousand ways to try and explain the unexplainable. Her own hurt and pride fought for a voice, fought to accuse and cry, but with a ruthless wrench, she shoved them back. This was going to be difficult enough. Taking a deep breath, she began, “They are preliminary papers that weren’t supposed to be sent to you just yet.”

 

When Leo’s mouth opened, she held up a graceful hand and shook her head, eyes imploring, “Please, just let me get through this before you say anything. They weren’t supposed to be sent because I wanted to talk to you and Jim first, wanted to explain.”

 

“Jim?” Leo questioned hoarsely, “What does Jim have to do with-”

 

“Please,” Jocelyn cut in, reasoning that if her voice was sharp with suppressed bitterness it was a little deserved, even if this whole mess what partially her fault. “Please,” she tried again, in a more gentle tone, “let’s not pretend that Jim isn’t a part of this marriage, because he has been for the last six months. Maybe even before that, though you two certainly won’t admit it to me.”

 

She shook her head again, once more cutting Leo off, “Really, I can’t . . . let’s just . . . get through this first part.

 

“I was going to talk to you and Jim after the holiday season. Was going to tell you that I’m moving to Atlanta, that I’m going to file for a no-fault divorce. That I’m not angry and that I don’t . . . I don’t blame anyone for what happened.” At this, her voice became thick with tears.

 

Leo turned to face her, his hands reaching for his, his confusion only growing, “I don’t understand. I thought we were happy. I thought this is what you wanted.”

 

The first tears escaped at this and she shook her head, eyes tracing over beloved features, “It was what you wanted and I wanted to give it, _him_ , to you. Thought I could. You, you _feel_ so much for him, as does he for you. And at first, I thought it was just a lust thing.

 

“We got married so young, Leo. Maybe too young. And things between us had cooled over the years. We were busy and we let that become more important. And we loved each other, but we didn’t take care of each other. We just stopped . . . we just stopped seeing each other. And so when Jim came and I saw how attracted you were to each other, I thought, why not? Maybe the spark would be reignited and you and I would be happy again and Jim would always be the friend that did that for us.

 

“But the morning after, I knew. I knew one night hadn’t been enough, wouldn’t be enough, and I could either open our marriage or I could lose you in degrees. Besides,” she gave him a trembling smile, shrugging, “it’s not like it was hard being with him, or even watching you guys together. You’re beautiful, both of you, and the sex was . . . well, amazing.

 

“And for a while, it all worked. I was happy, you were happy, Jim was happy, and I silently congratulated myself for being as mature as I was. I wasn’t even all that jealous. Most of the time.” And here she clutched Leo’s hand, eyes begging for his understanding, his honesty, “But about two months ago I just woke up. I woke up and realized that it wasn’t just great sex, not for you and Jim.

 

“We were having dinner and you two were bickering, like always, about the Orions. And I could see Jim winding you up just to watch your face flush and you glare at him. Could see what he felt so plainly as he watched you. And when you would have yelled at anyone else, yelled and thrown your napkin down, he murmured something at you, something I couldn’t hear. And before I could blink, you were laughing. I’d never heard you laugh like that.”

 

She was quiet for a moment, lost in the memory, and the lump in Leo’s throat was too large for him to speak. Suddenly, her eyes focused on him again, no longer filled with tears, quietly resolved, “And I knew you loved him. Not as a friend, though you’re a closer friend with him than you’ve ever been with anyone else. But that you were completely in love with him, as he was with you. And I wondered how I had stayed so blind to it.” She snorted gently, her mouth twisting, “I think you loved him from that first night and it only grew from there.”

 

Leo was shaking his head, murmuring, “Joce . . .”

 

But she only cupped his jaw and forced him to stop, “Don’t, Leo, don’t lie to me about it. You may not have said it to him. I don’t think you would just yet, because of me. And I appreciate that. I do. But don’t lie to me. It’s in your eyes when you look at him. I know that look. I know what Leonard McCoy is like in love. And you are. It just isn’t with me anymore.”

 

Tears flowed down her cheeks and Leo gave a deep murmur, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her. Jocelyn broke a little, wanted to burrow deep and never let go. Wanted to beg him to stay, to forget everything in the last year and just _stay_. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. To anyone. Including her. Especially her. You shouldn’t have to beg for love. As much as things had gotten confused in the last six months, Jocelyn still knew that.

 

So she let herself cry a little, took some comfort from the familiar feel of those broad shoulders that carried too much weight, and then sat back. She traced a hand over his face, memorizing the feel, smoothed the deep furrow between his brow, and brushed away the tears gathering at his lashes, “It’s okay. It is. Or it will be. I don’t want you to feel guilty. We all have a hand in this. And we are all helpless against it. Love doesn’t ask for permission, Leo. It just is.

 

“It isn’t simple or easy or painless. But it isn’t something that should be ignored. So, I don’t want this to break us all for forever. And I don’t want you to think I blame you or Jim. And I don’t want you to think this is selfless of me. It’s not.

 

“As much as I want you to be happy, to be loved, I want those things too. I want to be looked at the way you look at Jim. And I want to be touched the way Jim touches you. I deserve that. So this isn’t selfless. It just what’s necessary, for both of us.”

 

She watched with clear eyes and a heavy heart as he struggled with her words, with the truth she hadn’t been able to deny any longer. And when his denial came, she wasn’t surprised, “Jocelyn, this . . . divorce . . . this isn’t necessary. I love you and we can . . . we can go back to the way things were. I can explain things to Jim, tell him that we . . . that we can’t-”

 

He broke off roughly and a sad smile touched her mouth. She appreciated the sentiment, even if she knew it was a false one. “Oh Leo, you can’t even bring yourself to say it. And of course you love me. Just as I love you. But it’s not the same and it’s not enough and nothing can change that anymore. And that’s okay. Sometimes . . . sometimes this is just what happens. And we can’t go back. There’s nothing to go back to. And I’m so sorry about that. And I know you are too. But Leo, the only thing we can do is let go, before it gets too hard and too ugly.”

 

She didn’t resist when strong hands pulled her forward, burrowing her into his lap, holding tightly as shudders ran through him. She only wrapped her arms around him and held on tight one last time.

 

 

***

 

 _Day Three_

 

 

Jim frowned at his computer. Still no response from Leo. He had been comming him since Friday evening, getting no response. At first Jim had assumed he’d been at the hospital, but he’d commed Leo’s secretary yesterday only to find out Leo hadn’t been in at all the last couple of days.

 

It was now Sunday and Leo was supposed to be arriving in San Francisco to spend the day with Jim before they both returned to Georgia for the last couple of days. Jim had worked non-stop to make sure everything was in order for their departure on Wednesday and he’d wanted to show Leo his favorite parts of San Francisco, wanted to take him out on a real date, something they couldn’t really do in Madison. While most of the town had a fair idea of what was going on, had since their not-so-discreet kiss at the Fourth of July festival, they all had agreed not to advertise it blatantly. Too many questions they didn’t want to answer.

 

But in San Francisco, Jim could link hands with Leo walking down the street, could kiss him in a store, could take him to dinner and tangle their legs together. And he found that he desperately wanted to do those things. Even Atlanta didn’t afford them those opportunities, Leo and Jocelyn knowing too many people to make public places anonymous.

 

But the morning had come and gone without a peep from Leo and Jim was worried. He’d tried the house several times all to no avail, and Jocelyn’s office only to get an away message. With no other options, he commed Eleanora, who, of course, answered right away with a, “Praise Jesus! You get your behind here _right now_ , James T. Kirk!”

 

Already on his feet, Jim began pushing papers into his bag even as his heart leapt into his throat, “What happened? Where are Leo and Jocelyn? Are they in the hospital? Was there an accident?”

 

Deep worry lined Eleanora’s face but she lifted her hands soothingly, “No, no, nothing like that. No one’s in the hospital. Leo’s at home and Jocelyn’s at her parents house.”

 

Jim paused, “What? Why?”

 

Eleanora sighed and threw her hands up, “Because y’all are a bunch of morons is why! Christ, you might as well be horny teenagers for all the forethought you put into getting’ together. Things finally crashed and burned, as if _that_ wasn’t entirely predictable! Jocelyn’s filin’ for divorce and Leo’s drinkin’ himself into the ground. Won’t even let me in the damned house! And of course, no one thought to call _you_ , as if you aren’t an integral part of this whole thing.”

 

Jim had blindly searched for his chair and sat down halfway through Eleanora’s rant. “Divorce? What?”

 

Another heavy sigh sounded, “Just . . . just come home. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Well, it is as bad as it sounds but not cause of Jocelyn, bless her heart. Leo’s . . . well, Leo’s bein’ Leo and blamin’ himself for everything and refusin’ to talk to anyone. And I figure he’s got enough liquor in that damn house to keep him locked in there and mostly drunk for at least a few weeks. So, if you could come home and straighten out this mess, I’d surely be grateful.”

 

Jim could only nod feebly, his mind racing. _Divorce_? Dread and a terrible, terrible hope rose in him, which he promptly squashed. This is _not_ what he wanted. It wasn’t. He’d been happy with that they’d had. Perfectly happy.

 

But even as he packed his bag, a selfish voice Jim was ashamed of whispered, _Mine, mine, mine_.

 

 

***

 

 

Jim gave another bang on the door with equal results. Nothing. Sighing, he popped open the false panel and began pulling out wires, quickly stripping them, detaching, reattaching, and then reprogramming the system. Clearly, Leo had been sober enough to change the password of the security system.

 

Breaking in took Jim all of forty-five seconds. This is why he told people who wanted a secure household to get dogs. Any security system could be reworked. Sure, some security was more sophisticated than others and more cleverly hidden, some were incredibly difficult to bypass, but if someone wanted in, they were most likely to get in.

 

Jim opened the front door and could only shake his head sadly at his dogs, who were sitting in the front of the door, cheerfully wagging their tails in tandem instead of barking ferociously. Jim told himself it was because they had scented him and if it had been anyone else, they would be attacking at this point. Really.

 

He dropped his bag by the door and peered into the living room and family room without seeing Leo. Sighing, he headed upstairs and sure enough there was a trail of clothing from the top of the stairs to the master bedroom.

 

Following them, he pushed open the door to find Leo completely naked, face forward on the bed, completely passed out but still clutching an empty bottle. From the growth of his beard, and the rank smell permeating the room, he’d been like this for a couple of days.

 

He took a moment to appreciate the lovely sight of Leo’s bare ass in the air, hell, it was right there, before sighing and getting to work. First, he pried the bottle out of his hand and then began cleaning up. Wincing when he found the trash bin that was the main source of the stink in the room (though not the only one Jim found out when he took a careful sniff near Leo), Jim took it downstairs and tossed it.

 

He ordered some beef broth from the replicator and set about getting a couple glasses of water and a hypo of the anti-hangover remedy Leo kept in a kitchen drawer, comming Eleanora with a note that he was at the house and Leo was still alive while he waited for the broth. Carrying those items back upstairs on a tray, he nudged Leo over, only getting grunt for his efforts. Christ, this was not going to be easy.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he had Leo partially awake, still drunk, leaning against some pillows and slurring incoherently. Jim only caught a word here and there— _Joce, divorce, failed_. Jim spooned broth into his mouth between slurs; occasionally angling the straw so Leo could suck down some much needed water.

 

Once the broth and water was mostly gone, Leo slightly more coherent but now sunk into despondent silence, Jim stripped himself and levered Leo up, pulling him into the shower and beginning to wash the stink off of it. It was when Jim was rinsing his hair, careful to avoid a soap-in-eye situation that Leo looked, really looked at him, and carefully enunciated, “All your fault.”

 

Jim couldn’t stop the flinch but took a careful breath before continuing with his ministrations, not responding to a now resentfully silent Leo. As he finished rinsing Leo off and leaned him against the wall so he could grab a towel, T’Pring’s warning came back to him and he sighed. He should have been expecting this.

 

Once he was dry, Leo shrugged off Jim’s hands and slowly, crookedly walked back to the bed, ignoring Jim’s protest about the sheets, and just fell back onto it. Jim could only watch as Leo buried his face in the pillow, turning away from Jim, and fell back into sleep. Jim scrubbed his hands over his face, swearing silently and thoroughly. All he could do was wait for Leo to sober up. Hopefully, things would look better in the morning.

 

 

***

 

 _Day Two_

 

Jim woke to the sound of a coffee cup slamming down, jolting him into sitting up on the couch he’d fallen asleep on, his PADD clattering to the floor. “Wha??”

 

Blue eyes blearily focusing, the first thing he saw was the scowling visage of Leo, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, dressed and looking both pissed and uncertain, “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

Jim blinked, confused for a moment, before it all came rushing back to him. Taking another couple of moments to attempt some sort of order to his thoughts, Jim stalled by taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee. Ah, Leo had been awake some time then. And feeling quite passive aggressive.

 

Sighing, he stood. He didn’t want Leo towering over him for this. “Eleanora told me what happened.”

 

“She _knows_? How?” Leo questioned, his voice rising in horror.

 

Jim just shrugged though he was pretty sure Jocelyn had told her. They had always been close. Leo scowled at him, as if Jim were responsible for Eleanora knowing, before something else dawned on him, “Christ, she must know about us.”

 

At this, Jim rolled his eyes. Eleanora had known about that since it had happened. It was only Leo’s stubbornness that prevented him from seeing just how much about his personal life and marriage his mother was aware of. Leo spoke again before Jim could respond to that particular piece of ignorance, “You shouldn’t be here.”

 

“And just where should I be?” Jim asked, his voice even. Fuck if he was just gonna let Leo throw him out.

 

It was Leo’s turn to shrug. Jim watched with narrowed eyes as Leo looked away. “This thing . . . with us . . . it’s over, Jim. Jocelyn’s filing for divorce.”

 

Jim’s own arms crossed and he arched a brow, knowing what was about to come out of his mouth made him an ass, “And that means we can’t be together anymore? Because I’ve heard that before, Leo. And it doesn’t seem any more realistic now than it did then.”

 

Leo looked at Jim incredulously for a moment before the vein in his forehead began visibly throbbing, “Are you fucking _kidding_ me? Do you seriously think . . . I just told you my marriage is over, and it’s your goddamn fault, and that’s all you have to say to me? Like I’m just gonna bend over for you? Act like this doesn’t change everything?!”

 

Jim’s arms fell and he jabbed a finger forward, “Don’t you put this on me! Maybe if I were some noble idiot I would let you, would take the responsibility and bow out gracefully, let you convince yourself that I was the snake tempting you with a goddamn apple. But that’s bullshit and you fucking know it!”

 

Leo turned away from him, taking one step before whirling back, and pointing a finger back at him, “You were just supposed to be a goddamn _lay_! You weren’t supposed to fucking end my marriage. Sixteen years, Jim. After sixteen years, it only took you a year to destroy everything!”

 

And with that, Jim lost it, allowing the anger to push aside the hurt that lashed across him with every word. He surged forward, pushing Leo into the wall of the living room, holding him there with an arm across his chest. Before Leo could push at him, do more than swear, Jim kissed him, fighting with Leo, biting and pulling until Leo surrendered with a helpless groan, opening automatically to Jim’s tongue. And Jim took advantage of that automatic response, plundering Leo’s mouth ruthlessly until his hips began to move against Jim. Pulling his mouth away, he looked into Leo’s lost eyes, and bit out, “That? That’s both of us. You can swear at me, you can blame me, but we both fucking know that whatever it is between us, we both feel. It isn’t just me, Bones.”

 

Arms pushed at Jim, shoving him back just a bit but not enough to dislodge Jim. Bones struggled for a minute, “Don’t fucking call me that! Use my goddamn name!”

 

“No.” Jim declared, forcing his hips back up against Bones, needing the comfort of feeling his arousal while Bones attempted to shove him out of his life. “No. You don’t get to be Leonard McCoy with me. The brilliant surgeon dressed in the guise of a country doctor, perfect son and husband, with the perfect goddamn life. Because only one of those things is true.

 

“No, you’re Bones. Because Bones wants things that don’t fit in with this guise he’s built. Bones is unapologetically brilliant. Bones is the honest part of you, the part that loves where he shouldn’t, that takes without apologizing, that isn’t ashamed.”

 

Leo was shaking his head, frantically, angrily, “Don’t talk about me as if you know me. God, Jim, the things you don’t know.”

 

Jim moved his arms, cupping his jaw, bringing his gaze back to him, “Bones is the man who let his father die with dignity. Who gave his father the mercy he needed, knowing it would be something he could never forgive himself for.”

 

The words were quiet and stilled Bones immediately, shocking him into silence and stillness. Jim pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, “Eleanora told me months ago. On the anniversary of your father’s death, after you locked yourself in the study. She told me, Bones. And the only thing that bothered me about it was that you didn’t tell me yourself. Especially since you know things about me that no one else does.”

 

Leo’s eyes lowered again, this time in shame. His voice was small, helpless, “I murdered him, Jim. How could I tell you that? When you had seen so many murdered already.”

 

Jim again jerked Bones’ chin up, “Damn you, don’t you ever compare yourself to that monster again. You hear me? It’s not the same. God, it’s not even remotely the same! And I won’t stand here and listen to you compare it as if you could ever be the same as Kodos.”

 

When Leo went to object, Jim shook his head, “It’s insulting to me, to the colonists who died, to your _father_ to compare them. He wasn’t a victim, Bones. And he didn’t raise a murderer. Your father was a man who was in pain, who was dying, and who wanted to do so on his own terms. You’re not a fucking fortune-teller. No one could have predicted that the cure would be found a couple months later. No one can say for sure if he would have lasted long enough to even see it. You did the only goddamn thing you could. And even if you can’t see that, you can at least acknowledge that your mother can, that I can.”

 

They stayed that way, staring at each other for a few minutes, Bones barely breathing with the intensity of Jim’s eyes staring at him, into him. After an unknown amount of time, Bones gently pushed away, Jim letting him this time. “This isn’t about my father. This is about Jocelyn.”

 

“Is it?”

 

Leo shot him a sharp look and took another step back, “Yes, it is. Christ, Jim, she thinks I’m in love with you. That’s why she wants a divorce.”

 

His jaw clenching, his eyes flattening, Jim just cocked a brow at Leo, “And of course that’s ridiculous. Cause I’m just a lay.”

 

A slow flush worked into Leo’s cheeks. His eyes flickered away for a moment before he seemed to collect himself, “I can’t fail her, Jim. I failed as a son, as a doctor. I won’t, can’t, fail as a husband.

 

“This thing between us was never supposed to be permanent. And we had a good run, it’s been fun—all that. But I’m walking away cause that’s what Jocelyn needs, what our marriage needs.”

 

Jim stayed silent, fighting not to let himself react to the words, to the forced casualness of Leo’s tone that burned into him. “And you? What do you need?”

 

Leo met his gaze for a moment, his eyes softening almost imperceptibly before hardening. Closing to Jim. And his voice was quiet, knowing the blow he was about to deliver. “I need her.”

 

 _He didn’t fall_ , Jim thought with some surprise _. Surely a blow like that should make him fall_?

 

Jim shook himself out of his daze, refocused to see Leo had backed up to the entrance of the living room. Jim didn’t know what to stay, which was a completely foreign feeling. But the absolute misery and impenetrable resolve in Leo’s body was too much for him. He couldn’t force Bones to need him, to love him. And Jim wouldn’t beg.

 

And so using his pride like the crutch it was, he straightened, nodded. He gathered up his PADD, slipped back into his shoes, and began walking to the door, nearly smiling when Leo flinched as he moved past him. When he was at the door, he looked at Mason and Dixon, who were hiding from the tension in the house by cramming themselves under the entryway table, “I’ll take them to San Francisco with me, ask Pike to watch them.”

 

Leo lifted his hand, suddenly reminded that Jim wasn’t just leaving the house. “Jim, don’t be stupid. I can-”

 

Jim shook his head, too tired to attempt a smile. The instinct to soothe was there. But he just couldn’t. He was too raw and angry and fucking _hurt_. And he didn’t have enough in him to be gracious about the fact that he’d just been told he was a fun lay who was no longer needed by the man he’d fallen in love with. “It’s better this way. If I come back, then they’ll already be in San Francisco. And if I don’t . . . well, then I guess it won’t matter. Pike will take good care of them.”

 

Leo surged forward, “Don’t . . . don’t talk like that.”

 

And now Jim’s mouth twisted, a cruel parody of his usual smile, “Don’t worry, Doctor McCoy. Being dumped didn’t drain my will to live. I’m not gonna nobly sacrifice myself when I can save the fucking universe.”

 

Jim whistled lightly, Mason and Dixon scrambling forward, and he opened the front door.

 

“Jim . . . I . . . be careful. Good luck,” Leo finished lamely.

 

Turning, Jim let his eyes drink him in one more time, before pushing the corner of his mouth up. “Who needs luck?”

 

He left he door open behind him, forcing himself to stride forward, not looking back to see if Leo was watching. It couldn’t matter.

 

***

 

 _Day Zero_

 

Jim ran through the pre-flight checklist once more. Most of the crew had boarded the Perseus already. He was just awaiting the final beam-up of his senior crew, having beamed up himself early in the morning. Jim always encouraged family and friends to come to the departure bay, allowing his crew to have as much time as possible with them before embarking. In this instance, it was even more important. Jim put their survival at about seventeen percent. Just getting to Organia. It went down once they arrived.

 

Gaila was at his side, having come aboard with Jim earlier. They had both said their goodbyes to his family and Pike earlier, and Jim had commed Spock yesterday.

 

The transporter activated and suddenly they were all there. Sulu and Chekov were the first hop off the transporter pad, both grinning and giving him a small salute on their way to the bridge, “Admiral.”

 

Jim only smiled at his pilot and navigator. Commander Matthews, Cupcake, was next, grinning at Jim, “‘Once more unto the breach,’ Admiral?”

 

Jim clapped him on the shoulder, “‘Or close up the wall with our dead.’”

 

Sharing a nod, his Security chief also headed to the bridge. Gaila sighed next to Jim, “Henry V?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Uhura and Scotty were next and last. Scotty grinned, “And what new adventures await us, Admiral?”

 

“If we’re lucky, glory and immortality.”

 

“And if we’re unlucky?” Uhura questioned amusedly, having gone through this before.

 

“Just immortality,” Jim responded, smiling down at his communications officer and XO.

 

Scotty just shrugged, “Well, immortality’s a fine thing. More’n enough for me.”

 

Uhura just rolled her eyes and dragged Scotty away, pressing a kiss to his mouth before they separated, one for the bridge the other for the engine room. Gaila watched as Jim took a deep breath before turning for the door and knew he was thinking of Leo. If they lived through this, she was just going to strangle that man. And if not, she would find him in her next life and do it anyway.

 

Jim turned to her and gave her a smile, “And how about you? Ready?”

 

His chief science officer gave him a cheery nod and a wicked smile, “Of course, Admiral. I’m wearing my lucky panties and everything.”

 

The laugh that had been absent for the last couple of days sounded and Jim draped an arm around her as they walked to the turbolift, “Then what else could we need?”

 

 

It was to applause that Jim stepped onto the bridge, a mix of his crew and the prior crew of the Perseus, including the former captain who was sharing XO duties with Uhura. Jim exchanged a nod with the man, who had impressed Jim by asking to be allowed to stay in any capacity just to be part of such an important mission. It had shown an impressive lack of ego, especially considering Jim was about twenty-years younger than the man and had, in effect, stolen his ship right out from under him. He doubted he would have been as gracious had anyone attempted to do such a thing with the Enterprise.

 

Waving everyone back to their stations, he took the captain’s chair, and looked to his pilot and navigator who were both grinning at him. Sharing a smile, knowing they were thinking of their very first mission, he arched his brows, “Lay in our course, Mr. Chekov.”

 

“Course laid in, Admiral.”

 

And turning to Sulu, he sat back in his chair and borrowed the words of a man greater than himself. “Punch it.”


	10. Detours

 

 

“ _Spock!_ ” Jim bellowed, diving under a hail of phaser fire and behind a conveniently placed rock. “Spock!”

 

The Vulcan was face down in the sand and Jim could see the red sand slowly darkening with green blood. _Shit_.

 

Jim panted, catching the eye of Sulu, who was holding a seeping wound in his side. They had just passed Vulcan when the call for aid came through and Jim hadn’t hesitated. Ordering the ship to turn around, despite a tentative protest from Xhang. When he’d asked if they should comm Starfleet for instructions, the bridge crew had merely smiled and continued preparing for engagement. The ship had been put on red alert and shields raised.

 

They had dropped out of wrap to find four Romulan warbirds, full class warships. Two were trapped in the emp field New Vulcan had mined their skies with shortly after arriving at the colony. It is a surprisingly low-tech solution to guarding near orbit of the planet. A ship had to be guided through the field in coordination of ground control signaling the movements of the mines. It had to be perfectly precise, which was never a problem for Vulcans.

 

Clearly, the first two Romulan warbirds had moved in without scanning fully and each had run into several mines, enough to knock out their power supplies, leaving them drifting. When the Perseus had dropped out of warp, a third Romulan ship had managed to sneak between the holes left by the two ships drifting and a fourth was about to follow.

 

The one navigating the mine field was unable to cloak but the fourth, who had yet to enter, had immediately done so and begun firing.

 

It had taken twenty precious minutes to disable the Romulans, who had self-destructed rather than surrendered. Their shields were down to sixty percent and Jim had ordered them to follow the last Romulan ship. Jim, Sulu, and Chekov had managed to navigate the ship through the minefield, as _Vokau_ was no longer responding, having evacuated the city earlier and now under fire from the fourth ship.

 

Jim cursed the fact that in another six months, they wouldn’t have been able to get this close. The planetary defenses, ground to air, would have been complete. The viewer screen showed the capital city taking heavy fire, but scans showed the city to be mostly empty.

 

Further scans had revealed that the population had been moved to caverns in the mountains, well insulated, easily defensible, perfect as a strong hold should planetary invasion occur.

 

“Admiral,” Uhura murmured, “the Romulan ship is carrying ground forces. They’ve beamed down, sir.”

They watched as the Romulan ship cloaked once more and Jim just sighed.

 

“Get a team together and place a call to Starfleet. I’ve no doubt that they’ve let Romulus know of our arrival. More will be arriving soon and we’re gonna need backup. Also, alert Security. I’m gonna need three teams. Two in the city and one to head to the mountains.”

 

Uhura nodded and both Gaila and Sulu leapt to their feet. Jim just smiled and turned to Captain Xhang, “Captain, I leave the Perseus in your capable hands once more.”

 

“Admiral, with all due respect, I would like to lead one of the teams.”

 

Jim met Xhang’s eyes and saw only determination. He smiled and clapped the man on the shoulder, “You got it. Take the third team and make contact with the Vulcan’s at the mountains.”

 

Xhang arched a brow, “And how will I find them?”

 

Jim just grinned, “They’ll find you. Uhura, the ship is yours. Take good care of her.”

 

Uhura just nodded and Jim nodded solemnly at his crew, “All right, let’s go.”

 

 

 

They had beamed down into the city, a veritable war zone. Only moments after they beamed down, the fire from the Romulan ship had ceased and Jim smiled. Uhura had found them.

 

The city was empty, smoke rising from some of the buildings, chunks blown out of the sandstone structures and Jim winced at the destruction of something so newly created. It was eerily quiet, with no visible signs of the Romulans. If Jim had to guess, he would say they would be concentrated on reaching the VSA.

 

It was no secret since Nero, Romulus had been attempting to discover the formula for red matter. Ostensibly, to protect Romulus from their exploding star. But Elder Spock had determined it was in _no one’s_ interests to have the formula for red matter a hundred years early and simply refused to divulge the formula. No amount of pressure, Federation, Vulcan, or Romulan had convinced him otherwise. He’d then mysteriously “disappeared”.  

 

Only the Vulcan Council knew the true identity of Selek, an elder of the House of Surak. Well, and Spock, T’Pring, and Jim. Even the rest of the bridge crew hadn’t been informed of his true identity. Scotty probably knew, having seen the man, but if he did, he certainly was keeping quiet.

 

Sulu took the second team and began a sweep through the western half of the city. Jim had taken Gaila and his team and headed for the eastern perimeter. There were many vulcanoid life signs in that direction.

 

As he got closer, he began to come across signs that the Romulans had been resisted. Violently.  He had left a medic behind to tend to a young Vulcan man, unarmed, deep in a healing trance but bleeding copiously from his chest. There were three Romulan soliders dead just ahead of him. It looked as though not the entire city had chosen to go to the mountains.

 

That was when they had heard the sounds of heavy phaser fire. Moving quickly in that direction, he split the team in two, sending them to approach on each side while he and Gaila took point.

 

Moving carefully out of the cover of the colony buildings, he saw ten Romulans being held at bay by a single Vulcan. _Spock_.

 

The sharp whine of phaser fire sounded overhead and in split second timing, Jim jerked Gaila to the ground. “Fuck!”

 

Suddenly a return of fire from a nearby building provided enough cover for them to scramble inside, assuming anyone willing to fire at Romulans was friendly enough for the moment. Gaila and Jim scrambled through the door, moving quickly into the darkened building.

 

“T’Pring!”

 

Gaila’s surprised shout had Jim whipping his head around, eyes widening in shock when he saw T’Pring sitting against a wall of the darkened building, breathing steadily and holding a phaser in one hand while the other applied pressure to a wound seeping from her leg.

 

T’Pring’s eyes locked onto Jim and he was stunned by what he saw. Logic had been stripped away and there was something feral in her dark eyes. “Gaila, take her position.”

 

He tossed her his phaser and armed with two weapons, Gaila moved to the ‘window’ made by one of the earlier blasts and began firing steadily and precisely.

 

Jim tore of his shirt and began ripping into long strips, “What the fuck are you doing here?! Why aren’t you in the caverns?”

 

She spoke in Vulcan, eyes not even blinking, “I will fight with my bondmate.”

 

Jim just sighed and began wrapping her thigh, “Do you know how many Romulans beamed down?”

 

“We think three teams of fifty. They thought we would not engage them in battle. They were incorrect. I estimate only thirty remain alive or un-captured.”

 

Gaila glanced over her shoulder, “What is she saying?”

 

“Fifteen!” Jim shouted, pulling T’Pring into his arms and moving her further into the cover of the building.

 

“T’Pring, I have to go to Spock. I’m going to leave Gaila here with you, all right? She’ll protect you. T’Pring, how’s the baby? Are you okay? Can you tell me if the child is in any distress?”

 

Her hand ghosted over her stomach, “My body has compensated for my injury and the child is safe. I will need to enter into a healing trance as soon as possible, however, if that status is to remain.”

 

Jim nodded and began to move away from her. A strong hand clenched on his shoulder and Jim turned to find T’Pring staring at him, calm but for those burning eyes, “I am entrusting Spock’s safety to you. Bring him back to me, brother.”

 

Nodding solemnly and taking the phaser T’Pring pressed into his hand, Jim moved forward, “Gaila, I need some cover. I’m going for Spock.”

 

She glanced over and nodded, quickly moving her gaze back to the window and grinning ferociously when her next volley of shots resulted in choked cry from one of the Romulans in the opposing building. Jim tossed her his communicator, “As soon as you’re clear, I want you to contact the Perseus and have yourself and T’Pring beamed up. Get her to medical as soon as possible.”

 

Gaila nodded again, “Be careful, Admiral.”

 

Jim shot her a cocky grin and when she began firing once more, he darted out the door and began moving towards Spock.

 

Moving quickly and silently through the shadows towards the eastern perimeter, Jim took care not be seen. He’d just gotten Spock in sight when a Romulan appeared behind the Vulcan, Spock whirling in time to fire but not to avoid taking a shot to his side. Near his heart. _Fuck_.

 

Jim ran forward, screaming Spock’s name, dodging fire and managed to get almost within touching distance when the Romulans turned their attention to him. Moving behind a rock, or really, what was once a wall, Jim crouched, panting, not at all surprised to see Sulu next to him, bleeding but still functioning.

 

“Report, Sulu.”

 

“Both of our teams have mostly cleared the city. We have captured about ten, killed or stunned about another fifteen. Your team is headed towards Commander Orcian. It seems likely that this is last pocket.”

 

“And since they haven’t been beamed out, I assume Uhura has removed that option.”

 

Sulu just grinned and shrugged, “She is thorough.”

 

Jim peered around the edge and saw the five remaining Romulans moving forward slowly, fanning out. “Well, Captain, there’s five left. Care to place a wager?”

 

Sulu laughed softly and Jim could hear the wet sound to it. Sulu would need some medical attention shortly. “First to three buys drinks for a month?”

 

“Deal,” Jim declared, even while moving up, taking aim.

 

A short minute later, the five Romulans had been stunned into unconsciousness, and Jim was easing Sulu onto the ground, “You good for a minute? I need to get to Spock.”

 

Sulu just nodded and Jim was on his feet, running before he even finished.

 

“Spock, Spock!” Jim called, turning the man over.

 

His features were still, eyes closed, skin clammy but cool. Too cool. He was streaked with red dirt and specks of blood, his phaser still clutched in his hand, side drenched with blood but no longer pulsing.

 

“Spock,” Jim murmured, shaking fingers moving to try to find a pulse. Pressing once, then twice. “ _Spock_.”

 

And so intent was he on Spock, Jim never saw the Romulan laying closest to him raise his head, or his arm. There was only a brief moment to see the flash of light before there was darkness and silence.

 

 

***

 

Commodore Winona Kirk rapped on the door, foot tapping impatiently as she waited. Just as she was about to put her foot through the damn thing, it opened.

 

Eyes green and sharp with impatience studied the bleary red eyes of the man before her. She fought not to sneer at his appearance, reined in the urge to punch him ruthlessly. It would have to wait. But not forever.

 

“You sober?”

 

He stared at her for a moment, mostly shocked and not a little wary, Winona noted with pleasure. When he managed to croak out, “Mostly,” she didn’t hesitate.

 

Reaching forward she wrapped her hand around his forearm and jerked him forward and close, “You’re coming with me.”

 

Slapping a hand on her communicator, she barked out, “I’ve got him. Two to beam up.”

 

Leo made a slight sound, the beginning of a protest. And as lights began to shimmer and atoms began breaking apart, the only thing Leo heard was, “It’s Jim.”

 

 

***

 

An hour later he was staring at a screen in the medical bay of the USS Galileo Galilei. Even as the surgeon in him was carefully cataloging every detail of the file, another part of him couldn’t even begin to process what was happening.

 

Sixty minutes ago he had been in his house, beginning to drink again in an attempt to wipe away the memory of the previous forty-eight hours. Trying to erase the sound of Jim’s voice from his head, the look on his face.

 

And now . . . now he was in space. Space. He hated space.

 

But there had been Winona and no chance to say no. Not that he would have been able to. _Jim_.

 

He wasn’t even really alive.

 

Leo’s fists clenched and he had to hold back the nausea that rose in his throat at the thought. CMO Christine Chapel had placed Jim into stasis, the damage to his brain too extensive for her capabilities as a general surgeon. They needed a neurosurgeon.

 

When they were going to send one from Starfleet Medical, Winona and Pike had combined forces and intervened. Which was how he’d found himself on board the Galilei, on their way to rendezvous with the Perseus, who had continued their journey to Organia as it took a few days to get there.

 

He couldn’t believe the mess he was looking at was Jim. His Jim. Jim who he’d yelled at, rejected, sent away, was in a medical bay, mostly dead. Pushing his face into his hands, Leo tried not to panic at the thought of what was awaiting him, the incomprehensible situation awaiting him. He hadn’t felt so uncertain about his ability as a surgeon since his father. _Christ. How had this happened_?

 

Winona came through the doors and dropped into a chair, “Well?”

 

Leo studied this small, fierce woman and saw both worry and determination in her eyes. She wore command well, easily. But his surgeon eyes noted the tension in her mouth, the rigidity of her shoulders, the restless twitch of her fingertips. She knew how bad it was. Knew and didn’t want it sugar coated for her.

 

“The surgery will take anywhere from fifteen to twenty-two hours. Even if he makes it through surgery, which at this point is unlikely since we’ll have to bring him out of stasis to operate, I don’t know that he’ll ever wake up. Phaser fire at near point blank is . . . well, it’s a good think Dr. Chapel acted as swiftly as she did.”

 

“A Romulan took my husband from me.” She spoke idly, her eyes on the ceiling. “And I never hated him. Or, at least I didn’t once I knew who he was. Because I understood grief. Understood how it breaks you and changes you and turns you into something you never were before.

 

“And I saw how easy it would be to become a monster. But I had Sam and Jimmy, and even though I made mistakes, so many mistakes, they always loved me. And it saved me. Saved our family. And I don’t think Sam would have been able to forgive me . . . for leaving, for marrying an asshole and leaving them with him, for letting Jim go to Tarsus . . . he would never have forgiven me for those things without Jimmy there. Because Jim is . . . he’s extraordinary, Dr. McCoy.”

 

Winona looked at him now, unashamed of the tears in her eyes, gradually trickling down her cheeks, “He has this _light_ in him that is undeniable. They talk about it like it’s just charisma. It’s not. It’s just Jimmy. The best parts of him that shine. And because he shines so brightly, things are drawn to him.

 

“Dark things,” she amended, quirking a wry smile he recognized from Jim’s lips. “seeking the light of him. But Jimmy has never been angry about the things that have happened to him. Never hated. I don’t think he has it in him to hate. He get’s that from his father.

 

“You’re here because we told Starfleet Command you were the best. That you were his best chance at survival and Jimmy’s our best chance of avoiding war. But really, Dr. McCoy, in this moment, _you_ are our best chance of avoiding war. If Jimmy dies-” she pushed to her feet and shot him an even glance, “if Romulus takes my son from me . . . ‘Now I become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds.’”

 

And before Leo could even begin to formulate a response to that, she was gone.

 

 _Well, fuck_.

 

***

 

Leo had given himself a sedative so he could fall asleep. Though it wasn’t the idea of being in space that kept him awake so much as the all to accurate visual he had of Jim in head. And the knowledge that in twenty hours, he would be holding Jim’s life in his hands.

 

So when he woke, he wasn’t refreshed exactly, but he was steady. Winona was waiting for him outside the guest quarters he’d been assigned. He’d been given clothes, as she hadn’t exactly let him pack a bag, and he’d found black pants and a long, black Starfleet shirt on top of his bed the previous evening.

 

They didn’t speak. She didn’t ask if he wanted breakfast, not that he could have eaten. She didn’t hit him for hurting her son, though he knew she wanted to.

 

Instead, she walked with him to the transporter room, nodding at the crew who stood aside and saluted as they walked along. When he stepped onto the pad, she moved a step back, “Take care of him, Leonard.”

 

“You aren’t coming?”

Winona shook her head, smiling slightly, “Not entirely. I’ll be here, shadowing the Perseus until you get closer to Organia. Once there, we’ll drop back, far enough way to not make the Klingons nervous but close enough to help should the Romulans show up. After that stunt on the colony, the fleet is being moved to the Neutral Zone, but that doesn’t mean a few warbirds won’t make their way here.”

 

“Has war been declared?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“Will they wait for the alliance to be signed?”

 

A shoulder shrugged, “As long as no one freaks out and fires until that happens. Romulus will need some time to get organized and they’ll stall long enough for the Orions to pull some of their larger ships in because they’ll be splitting their fleet between the Federation Neutral Zone and the Klingon. Of course, it won’t matter if Jim dies.”

 

Leo was reminded of her quote from the previous evening. He wouldn’t even have recognized it if not for Jim. But Jim loved the _Bhagavad Gita_ and had recited nearly all seven hundred verses to Leo over the course of two days. And when he had spoken those words, ‘Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds’ he had gone quiet, speaking quietly of Oppenheimer and Truman, an old Vulcan and Nero.

 

Winona motioned for the transporter tech to begin and with a held breath, Leo felt himself break apart.

 

When he reappeared, it was to find the familiar face of Gaila glaring at him. Arms were folded across her chest and her eyes were narrowed. It was the most unfriendly he’d ever seen her look. “If you weren’t about to operate on Jim, I would punch you right now. Do you even understand-” she stopped herself and shook her head, “Nyota said I wasn’t allowed to lecture you. So, just follow me. I’ll take you to Jim.”

 

Leo couldn’t process anything as they walked. The ship, the crew they passed, even Gaila was a blur to him as he got closer and closer to the medical bay. And when he stepped through those doors, there was an entire crowd waiting for him, Jim’s crew. Even Spock and T’Pring.

 

Uhura was the first to step forward, “We wanted . . . we wanted to say goodbye . . . just in case.”

 

Leo looked at them all a little helplessly, his voice rough, “I’ll do everything I can.”

 

Spock nodded, “We cannot ask any more of you, Doctor.”

 

Leo’s eyes flicked to the privacy screen he knew Jim was behind and felt a blessed calm come over him. It was the same feeling that came over him just before every surgery. The steadiness he’d been missing and so desperately needed to get through this. To get Jim through this.

 

 

***

 

The first eight hours were spent keeping him from flat-lining once he was brought out of stasis . . . keeping his heart beating, his lungs from collapsing, his liver from poisoning the rest of his body. He had gone into multi-organ system failure without his brain functioning to regulate them and it took a considerable amount of Leo’s skill and nerves to keep Jim alive.

 

At first he’d tried to forget this was Jim. Thought it would make it easier seeing him cut open, helpless, without that vibrancy that was at the very core of the man. The second time he’d reached into his chest and massaged his heart into starting again, he’d given up. This was _Jim_ and he would do whatever it took to make sure he saw those blue eyes again.

 

Once he’d stabilized Jim, a minor miracle in and of itself, he had been able to begin the work on his brain. It was delicate work, finding the bleeders and regenerating the nerves that had died in the initial blast, nerves all their machines couldn’t heal on their own.

 

Leo was thorough. He spent six hours checking through the parietal and occipital lobes, isolating bleeders deep into the brain, regenerating tissue, handling each nerve delicately as he coaxed them back into new life.

 

The frontal lobe hadn’t sustained a large amount of damage but what had been sustained was nearly impossible to fix.

 

Hour twenty saw two more crashes and Leo’s fair estimate that Jim would retain all of his cognitive and motor functions, as well as his sensory functions. It was his memory Leo was worried about. The temporal lobe had sustained the most damage and though Leo spent another eight hours repairing what he could, regenerating, grafting nerve tissue from his spine.

 

When he had finally closed Jim up, he was alive. Tenuously. They would have to see if his brain could retake control of his body again in the next twenty-four hours, easing him off the machines currently running his body and seeing if he could survive on his own.

 

And then it was anyone’s guess if or when he would wake up. And if he would remember who he was when he did.

 

Leo washed up quickly, stripping off his scrubs and resisting the urge to give himself another hypo of stimulants. He’d already had too many. He made his way out of the surgery bay to find Gaila, Spock, T’Pring, and Chekov sitting there. Spock was the only one awake. T’Pring had unbent enough to sink against her bondmate, no doubt due to her pregnancy, and Gaila was using his other shoulder, Chekov asleep with his head pillowed on her thigh.

 

Spock didn’t even blink when Leo appeared, at least until he gave a light cough. Then, blinking rapidly, Spock pulled himself out of what must have been a meditative state. “Doctor?”

 

Gaila sprang awake, eyes flashing open and rapidly sitting up, waking Chekov. Spock woke T’Pring with a gentle stroke of her hand and something murmured softly in Vulcan, giving Leo a rare glance into what a sleepy Vulcan looked like.

 

Gaila was the first to speak, “Let me comm Nyota. She and Scotty will want to be here.”

 

Chekov nodded, “And Hikaru.”

 

Leo softened a bit. These people loved Jim. It was so clear here, shining at this moment. So he nodded and waited as they commed the others, who arrived in a shockingly short amount of time. Suddenly there were seven faces staring him and Leo did his best to give them a smile, exhausted as he was, “It’s relatively good news. The surgery went well once we managed to get him stabilized. If his brain can regain control of his body, if we can take him off the machines, in the next twenty-four hours, things will look really good.

 

“Most of the damage was in the temporal lobe, which is where memory is stored. I’ve done as much as I can, repaired and regenerated, transplanted some nerves from his spine, but memory is a tricky thing and even in this century there’s a lot we don’t understand.”

 

Uhura straightened her shoulders, “What are you saying?”

 

Leo sighed, “I’m saying, even if he wakes up, there is no guarantee he’ll wake up with his memory in tact.”

 

“Are you meaning of what has happened, Doctor?” Chekov questioned, moving a bit closer to Sulu.

 

Leo rubbed at the back of his neck, “Maybe. Maybe more. And maybe he’ll wake up with his memory in tact. We won’t know until he wakes up.”

 

“But he will wake up?”

 

It was Gaila this time and Leo found a smile for her, “Yes, I think he will.”

 

Tension seemed to sag out of the room and suddenly his arms were full of a weeping Orion, riotous curls tickling his nose, as she cried against his shoulder. Slowly his arms came around her, only making her cry more and Leo looked helplessly around him.

 

Uhura was tucked into Scotty and Sulu and Chekov were holding hands, even T’Pring and Spock once again linking fingers and leaning a bit into each other. Spock’s eyes were shinning with something Leo would swear was happiness, “I believe Commander Orcian is simply relieved.”

 

Leo nodded and hugged her a bit tighter, burying his face in those curls and running a hand up and down her back, “Me too, darlin, me too.”

 

 

***

 

 

“May I join you, Doctor?”

 

Leo looked up and saw Spock in front of him, cradling a cup of tea in one hand. The mess was empty otherwise and Leo just nodded.

 

Spock sat stiffly but calmly. Leo went back to staring into his coffee, trying to stop the desperate rush of memories that had started over him again since the haze of surgery faded. Memories of Jim smiling, laughing. Memories of kisses and touches, breaths shared, hands sliding together.

 

And then of words. Too many words. Said unthinkingly, angrily. Stupidly.

 

Now it was all mixed together, images of his body opened before him, all of the parts of him there but still not Jim. His Jim. And Leo had never wanted to see him like that –vulnerable and all too human, fragile and dependent on Leo’s hands. Not when Leo fumbled too often when it mattered.

 

“You seem troubled, Doctor.”

 

Smooth eyes met Leo’s, a single eyebrow raised. Leo sighed, “Tired.”

 

“Perhaps you should seek your quarters.”

 

“Can’t sleep.”

 

Spock took a sip of his tea, angling his head slightly, “Whenever Jim was unable to sleep, despite physical exhaustion, it was often due to emotional turmoil.”

 

“Which I am sure you found ‘illogical’,” Leo muttered.

 

“Jim is often contradictory, illogical from a Vulcan viewpoint. However, from a human standpoint, it is unsurprising deep emotional turmoil could result in a lack of sleep. In your case, Doctor, it seems guilt in preventing you from sleeping.”

 

Leo’s eyes shot up, only to be met with an imperturbable gaze. “Know about that do you?”

 

“I spoke with Jim prior to his departure from Earth. He mentioned you had elected to end your relationship with him order to attempt a reconciliation with your wife.”

 

“And you disapprove?”

 

“I do not.”

 

“No?” Leo was surprised. He had been met with disapproval by most so far. His mother. Winona. Gaila. Uhura.

 

Spock took a sip of his tea, “I do not believe you are an ideal mate for Jim.”

 

Leo’s brows shot up, irritation rising, “Really?”

 

“Jim requires an individual capable of deep commitment. He does not thrive in casual relationships.”

 

And here Leo snorted, “He seems to have survived just fine so far.”

 

“Fine is a variable term. Fine is insufficient. And Jim often appears fine. I have learned over the years that how Jim appears does not always correlate to how he is.”

 

“So you must be thrilled then.”

 

“Doctor,” Spock said, a reproving hint in his tone. “I do not find any satisfaction in Jim’s unhappiness. I would simply prefer that he seek that happiness with someone who could return his affection in full measure. While I do not doubt that you have feelings for Jim, I cannot help but notice you are conflicted.”

 

“My marriage has ended over this. I don’t think it’s ridiculous that I feel conflicted over it.”

 

“It is illogical to lament that which we cannot change, Doctor. Just as it is illogical to punish Jim for the failure of your marriage, when it’s success was not his responsibility. If I understand the relationship correctly, Jim did not have a defined role. And your intimate association with him began in an attempt to repair a marriage already exhibiting signs of strain. And when he failed to repair that marriage, you ended the association.”

 

“Christ, Spock, you make it sound like I used him.”

 

“That is the only conclusion I can draw based on the evidence.”

 

Anger was burning deep now. Anger and shame. _Fuck, is that what Jim thought_?

 

“I didn’t use him. I . . . I care about him.”

 

“While I am hardly an expert on expressions of emotion, it seems unlikely that caring for someone includes relating that their status in your life is simply one of sexual availability.”

 

Leo fought simultaneous urges to punch Spock and simply slam his head on the table. “Is this why you asked to sit? To remind me how much I’ve fucked this whole thing up?”

 

There was a long pause of silence and then finally, “While I do not believe you to be an ideal mate for Jim, it is clear that he does and that he harbors great emotion for you. He is a man accustomed to being left, Doctor. And so he does not . . . invest himself emotionally easily or lightly. I ask that you take care in your interactions with him. I do not wish to see him harmed further.”

 

Leo wanted to be angry. Could feel the anger rising and fighting for dominance. It would be so easy to give over. But he wasn’t wrong. And Leo had come so close to having to live without Jim Kirk existing. He just didn’t have any fight in him right now.

 

He could only nod his agreement. And wait for the next blow. “As to why I sought you out, Dr. Chapel has asked me to tell you that Jim has awakened.”

 

Leo was on his feet before he could think, just moving past Spock and quickly towards the medbay. The doors opened with a nearly silent _woosh_ and Leo followed the sound of soft murmurs behind the privacy screens.

 

Uhura was sitting next to the bed, her hand in Jim’s, smiling even as tears ran down her cheek. But it was Jim that stole Leo’s breath. He was no longer deathly white. His skin had flushed with vibrancy once more and with the dermal regenerators, you would never know Leo had been staring at all of his vital organs just twenty hours before. But it was the gleam of those blue eyes that made Leo’s stomach clench. Long golden lashes blinked sleepily, blurring their gaze, but they were there and open and shinning so warmly at Uhura.

 

Until they were on him. Widening just slightly, while Leo looked over every millimeter of his face, flicking away only to reassure himself with the readings of the biobed.

 

“Bones?”

 

And there he was. His Jim. Whole. Leo surged forward and when his hand reached to cup Jim’s jaw, it was only Uhura’s presence that made him switch at the last moment, instead widening Jim’s eyes just a bit to check his pupil response.

 

“How are you feeling?” Leo asked gruffly.

 

And at that Jim frowned a bit, “Confused. What the hell are you doing here?”

 

Uhura coughed gently, “Just saving your life, Jim. We had to bring him in to operate.”

 

Blue eyes flicked back between them, “Chapel couldn’t handle it?”

 

Now Leo frowned, “You were shot nearly at point blank range with a phaser. You should have been killed immediately. Luckily that Romulan bastard had piss poor aim. But there was a lot of damage, Jim. You needed a neurosurgeon.”

 

“And Starfleet didn’t have one?”

 

Yeah, he definitely had his memory in full. Because Leo had never heard that particular tone from Jim before. Uhura stood, “I think I’ll let you two hash this out. Jim, we’ll be orbiting Organia in seventeen hours. Are you sure you want to beam down with the first team?”

 

“Yes-”

 

“What?!” Leo exclaimed at the same time.

 

Uhura merely nodded and slipped away. Jim turned those eyes on him and they were cool as they surveyed Leo, “I take it you have an objection?”

 

Leo glared at Jim incredulously, “Damn right I have an objection! Jim, you just underwent major surgery. For nearly thirty hours! Your brain is still bleeding! It will take at least ten hours for all of the bleeders to be repaired and you need at least another twenty to twenty-four hours after that with the neural regenerators!  You can’t go gallivanting all over the damn place!”

 

“Chapel said I’m mostly fixed.”

 

“Fixed in the you-won’t-spontaneously-drop-dead sense! Not in the sense that you can beam your particles all over the damn place and fight with Klingons! Jim, your body is incredibly fragile right now. Your organs just started working on their own again. I won’t clear you to even leave sickbay for another five to seven days, let alone beam anywhere.”

 

Jim gingerly shifted himself, wincing and ignoring Leo’s, “Aha!”

 

“I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t actually in charge of releasing me. The CMO is. And she’ll give her clearance.”

 

“Where is she?” Leo muttered, looking around for the woman he had to yell some sense into.

 

“Bones.” The name and the soft tone drew Leo’s attention from the hunt for Christine Chapel, “Bones, I need to head down. She’s not clearing me because she wants to. She’s doing it because Kor won’t meet with anyone else and in fact, would probably try to kill anyone else for attempting treachery. The fleet is in the Neutral Zone. Romulus attacked New Vulcan. Orion ships are moving through Romulan space now and will arrive in the Neutral Zone in two days. That’s all the time we have to get an alliance signed. Otherwise, war.”

 

“Dammit, Jim, if you leave before you’re done healing, and you are so much as _jostled_ there could be permanent damage to your memory, maybe to your motor skills. And that’s with a goddamn jostle. If there’s fighting, if you get injured, you could die before I can even get to you.” Leo sank into Uhura’s vacated chair. “It’s not worth it.”

 

Jim considered this and then smiled, “Well, then we’ll just have them put me in stasis again and you can bring me back to life.”

 

“Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a fairy godmother!” Leo threw his hands up in exasperation, glaring at Jim once more.

 

The other man just smiled, “Well, Bones, than I suggest you get to fixing me even more. Cause I’m beaming down in seventeen hours and at the moment, I can’t feel any part of my body.”

 

That caused rolled eyes, “You’re still full of anesthesia and pain killers. That’ll wear off.”

 

Jim just nodded and an uncomfortable silence fell. Jim began plucking at the blanket covering him and Leo ran a hand through already crazy hair. Finally, Leo cracked, “Jim, about . . .”

 

A sharp, “No!” cut him off. Jim took a deep breath and offered him a half smile, “Sorry. I just mean not now. Let’s just get through the next couple of days. You can tell Joce that I’m sorry I stole you away this one last time.”

 

“Jim, you don’t have to-”

 

“Bones, seriously, it’ll be fine. Just, let’s not talk about it, okay? I just can’t right now.”

 

There was more than a little annoyance and hurt in Jim’s voice and Leo didn’t know how to assuage either one right now. So all he could do was nod. And hope that if they got through the next forty-eight hours, it really would be fine. Whatever that meant.

 


	11. Once More Unto the Breach

“No.”

 

“Bones-”

 

“No. Either I come with you or you aren’t going down at all. This is what Chapel and I decided.”

 

Jim’s eyes cut to his CMO, who was purposefully inspecting the wall behind him. “Dr. Chapel-”

 

“Don’t bother, Jim. We already submitted the plan to Pike and he approved.”

 

Jim’s eyes sliced back over to Bones, who was looking anger and smug simultaneously. _Fuck_. This could ruin everything. Jim couldn’t do what he needed to and worry about Leo. “You aren’t trained. I can’t justify putting a civilian in a potentially hostile situation.”

 

 _Very hostile situation_ , Jim corrected internally. __

Hazel eyes rolled, “I’m a doctor, Jim. I’m not planning to challenge anyone to a duel.”

 

Christine Chapel gave a snort and began muttering something under her breath, which halted abruptly when Jim growled at her, “Something to add, Doctor?”

“No, Admiral,” she replied promptly. Great, he was in one of _those_ moods. She’d have to readjust her wager on their likelihood to die this time with Scotty.

 

Jim nodded in satisfaction before turning back to Leo, “Look, I will take a medic, but I can’t risk you on the planet. The Romulans are nearby. I can fucking _feel_ it. And if we get into a combat situation, I’m gonna need someone who can shoot.”

 

“Jim, I’m a born and bred Southerner. We shoot things recreationally. I can shoot any damn weapon you’ve got.”

 

Jim opened his mouth, the glint in his eyes stating he was clearly considering a sexual joke, and then decided otherwise.

 

Shit. The problem was that they had already had it approved it to Pike. If he refused, Pike would comm him before they went down to know why. The likelihood, however small, that Jim would survive this without dying or ending up on a Federation prison planet, depended on communications silence with Starfleet Central Command. He sighed, “We’ll go to the holodeck and you’ll take a competency test. You pass, you can come.” He’d send Leo to the safety house in the Organian mountains as soon as they beamed down. He’d already arranged it with the Organians for Mr. Young.

 

Leo rolled his eyes but agreed.

 

 

Twenty minutes later Jim was oh-so-casually leaning against the wall, trying not to let his mouth drop open.

 

 _Holy fuck, he was a goddamn marksman._  

 

Jim was proud of his shooting skills, loved that he was more accurate than Spock and that Spock took it as a personal insult. Jim was so damn good he’d been approached in the academy about transferring to black ops. He’d laughed them out the damn door. But still . . .

 

Leo might actually be better. Maybe. He was slower, but sharper. It was as if the precision of a surgeon had been combined with the patience of a scientist, resulting in a frighteningly efficient shot.

 

When Leo turned to Jim, it was with a smug expression. Bastard knew how damn good he was. “Fine.”

 

Leo smirked triumphantly and Jim only rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall gingerly. He wasn’t in _pain_ per se. He actually felt a lot better than he had seventeen hours ago. It was just that when he moved, it was like there was a half second delay between his body and his brain. Which he was keeping to himself for now.  

 

They were to beam down in two hours and Jim wanted the crew ‘officially’ briefed. So he took Leo to the conference room where the senior bridge crew (plus one annoying negotiator) was waiting for him. Jim motioned for Leo to sit and took his own place at the table. He opened his mouth to speak when said negotiator beat him to it, “I have prepared briefs for everyone to-”

 

Jim so did not have time for this bullshit and cut in, “Mr. Young, as the senior officer onboard, I believe I will be leading this meeting.”

 

“With all due respect, sir, Admiral Komack has made it clear that he wishes-”

 

“I don’t give a fuck what Komack’s wishes are,” Jim bit out. He saw his crew glance nervously between them and Jim restrained the urge to just knock the ass out. He’d been dealing with this bastard for far too long, who had complaints about everything . . . from stopping at New Vulcan to the unauthorized accompaniment of the USS Galilei. Jim just didn’t have the time or the inclination to deal with this shit. Not when it was this important.

 

“Have you ever even _met_ a Klingon, Mr. Young?”

 

The man shut up and clutched his briefs tightly to his chest, giving a slight shake of his head. Jim nearly rolled his eyes, “Then I’m gonna have to ask you to shut the hell up and stay out of my way. There is no brief that is going to outline out an encounter with a Klingon, let alone a captain as formidable as Captain Kor.

 

“As a species, they are relatively straight forward. Don’t challenge on unless you plan on following through with hand to hand combat, don’t lie to them, or fuck around with them. Keep it simple and honest. Don’t ask, plead, or for fuck’s sake, attempt to appeal to their mercy. They have none. Honor, which is defined by victory, is central to a Klingon and so the only way we are going to convince them to ally with us is to paint it as a win for the Empire. Be prepared for outrageous demands and know that we won’t accede to them. They would consider it a weakness. We must appear as strong if not stronger than Klingons themselves. They will not ally themselves to anyone perceived as weaker, which places us at a disadvantage initially because some idiots decided it would be a good idea to _ask_ them for a meeting and then agree to meet at Organia, which gives them the tactical advantage.”

 

Jim took a deep breath, trying to control the urge to continue his rant on the vast stupidity of Komack and the spineless morons who kept backing the man. After a moment or two, his eyes went around the table. He was a man who usually led by committee. And he had privately discussed this situation with the Enterprise crew. But it wouldn’t be a committee this time. Not today.

 

“Look, we have a surplus of command teams on this ship and obviously you all want to down on the planet. Which can’t happen. The simple fact of the matter is that the Romulans don’t want this meeting to occur, as evident by the warbirds we encounter any time we are even near the Neutral Zone. They aren’t even pretending to stick to their own territory anymore.

 

“So, I’m going to need a good command team to remain onboard, because I would bet money the moment we lower our shields to beam down, we’ll be attacked. So Captain Xhang, you will have the Perseus. I’m taking Uhura and Sulu down with me, along with Commander Matthews and two security officers. I know you have your own XO, but I strongly recommend to you appointing Chekov as your XO for the time being. He has more experience in maneuvering around Romulans and since I’ll have Sulu, you’ll need him. Gaila, you’ll stay on board to help track the Romulan ships and institute the omega protocol if necessary.” She nodded fiercely, her eyes determined. She and Jim had come up with an _if-all-else-goes-wrong_ protocol that just might save all of their lives. Jim hoped not to use it, but . . . well.

 

“It will just be the senior crew . . . and Mr. Young, who beam down initially. I want four security teams on standby, ready to beam down as soon as the Romulans arrive. They’ll have to de-cloak to beam their own people down and I want our guys sent down the moment that happens.

 

“The Organians have agreed to host talks but are not a particularly advanced civilization by all indications. It looks like they achieved space travel but haven’t pursued it in centuries. They are peaceful and completely unable to defend themselves or us. We’ll be on our own.”

 

Mr. Young sniffed, “There has been no sign of Romulan ships.”

 

“Warbirds,” Uhura corrected, “and we have gotten abnormal readings from the space around us. They’re out there.”

 

Jim just nodded and pushed up onto his feet, “All right, the officers heading down to Organia have been briefed on the specifics so you have two hours to get ready. Everyone is to meet on the transporter at exactly 14:08 ships time, which will put us down on Organia at 07:59. Dismissed.”

 

His crew got up and smiled, their eyes sweeping over their captain communicating their relief at his recovery, their faith in their mission. The had spent three hours the previous evening going over the plan he and Kor had developed independent of their respective governments. Jim and Kor had been sending highly illegal, highly secret messages to each other since the talks had been set, Elder Selek acting as mediator. This wasn’t going to happen with Komack leading and the Klingon Empire had its own political bullshit it was dealing with.

 

But the simple fact was that Kor and Jim were practical captains, born leaders and not politicians. For whatever games had been played to this point, they both knew this treaty was necessary. For everyone. Alpha and Beta sectors could not be thrown into chaos. There were too many unknown empires out there, things only hinted at by Spock/Selek. Dangerous things.

 

It was bordering on treason, what Kor and Jim had done, for both of them. They were all gambling with their freedom. Of course, it was the message Jim had Selek send thirty-six hours ago that pushed him past the border and firmly into the realm of treason. Even if it worked, even if he survived, Jim didn’t see this ending well for him.

 

He gave each a smile and a clap on the shoulder, murmuring a few words, highly conscious the entire time of Leo’s eyes on him.

 

When the room had cleared out, Leo was studying him, “They love you. They would follow you anywhere, wouldn’t they?”

 

“As I would them.” Jim just replied, moving towards the door.

 

Leo stopped him with a hand, “You are spending the next two hours with a neuro-regenerator strapped to your head.”

 

“I have things to do.”

 

“And you have a crew to do them for you,” Leo growled. “Look, you may be trying to save the universe, but that’s not gonna happen if you’re dead. You aren’t completely healed yet and two hours with the regenerator may not sound like a lot, but it can mean the difference between conscious and comatose at a certain point. And correct me if I’m wrong, but this doesn’t sound like it’s gonna go smoothly.”

 

Jim crossed his arms and glared. At that, Leo actually smiled, “No use pouting at me.”

 

“I’m not pouting.”

 

“Oh please, you’re sticking your bottom lip out at me. If that’s not a pout, I don’t know what is. Come on.”

 

And Jim let himself be pulled back to sickbay, comming his yeoman to meet him there in order to receive a list of instructions.

 

Jim had, before he left Earth, made sure everything was in order should he not return. And at this point, he wasn’t expecting to. Things were about to become a clusterfuck, Jim could feel it. He’d written a missive to his mother, as the Galilei was on communications silence. Just needed to make sure his yeoman was given the password to his system to send the missive on. His mother would take it from there.

 

He let himself be pushed on a biobed and refused to sigh at the relief of the world slowly catching up to his eyes. It was disconcerting, this delay.

 

Once Jim had issued instructions, the yeoman had left and Leo sat in the chair next to his bed. Silence reigned between them for fifteen minutes before Leo, without ever taking his eyes off the scanners, muttered, “You don’t think this is going to work, do you?”

 

He sent the other man a considering look, “It’s got an eighteen percent chance. Those are better odds than I’ve worked with in the past. I have no doubt it’ll work.”

 

Leo looked to be considering this and then suddenly asked, “And of it working _and_ you coming out of it alive?”

 

 _1.894% chance_ , Jim thought wryly. Less than the Narada. But not unbeatable. So he shrugged and didn’t say anything.

 

“Great,” Leo growled, “just fantastic.”

 

“Don’t worry, Bones, it’ll be fine.”

 

“It will not be fine. You’re gonna get yourself killed, you moron!”

 

Jim’s lips quirked, “Ah, Bones, didn’t know you cared so much for a _lay_.”

 

He regretted the words as soon as he’d said them, though a small, dark place of him was satisfied at the flush of shame worked its way up Bones’ cheeks.

 

“Jim-”

 

“I shouldn’t have said it.”

 

Leo sighed in frustration and tossed his PADD onto the bed, “That’s my line. Jim, you know I didn’t mean it.”

 

He just shrugged a shoulder and Leo surged forward. Jim watched warily as he placed a hand on his shoulder, “Jim, I didn’t mean it. I was angry and . . . I . . . well, I shouldn’t have said it.”

 

Jim just nodded and swallowed, not meeting that hazel gaze. Grey today. With worry. Leo looked like he was going to say more, but just subsided back into silence. Sitting once more and picking up his PADD.

 

He worked in silence while Jim simply stared at the ceiling, running through every possible scenario over and over again until they felt familiar. A soft beep indicated it was time and Leo reached up and pulled the neuro-regenerator off, sliding it on the bed and a yeoman appeared with Jim’s uniform top, the red and white and of the admiralty. Missing his command gold, Jim slipped it on as well as the utility belt with a couple of phasers. Had to impress the Klingons. Jim thought for a moment of taking the knife he had strapped to his ankle and adding that to the belt as well, but thought better of it. Better for it to remain a surprise if necessary.

 

Leo was given his own phaser and belt and Jim watched as adept hands strapped it to his waist, in addition to the bulging medkit already there. The urge to do it for him was there, the urge to touch while he could, but Jim pushed it away. It was best to get used to this new distance between them. For however long it lasted.

 

Leo turned to walk out of sickbay and Jim spoke suddenly, “Bones.”

 

He turned around, brow raised in inquiry. Jim felt a clutch of nerves and then pushed those away as well. “Mason and Dixon are with Pike. But if I don’t come back, if you don’t mind, I would like you to take them. They . . . uh, they need somewhere to run.”

 

Leo’s eyes darkened with something heavy and the tension brackets around his mouth deepened. He gave a short nod and Jim sighed in relief. Leo would have some piece of him after all.

 

Jim nodded and smiled a bit in return. He felt steadier now. Focused. Like the last knot of tension had eased at last and he was ready.

 

Leo turned and began to walk and Jim took a moment to appreciate the view before moving, slipping the neuro-regenerator into his pocket, just in case.

 

 

Everyone was assembled in the transporter room, Scotty at the console. Spock and T’Pring were there, fingers linked, Spock dressed in Starfleet blacks, phaser and tricorder at his side. Jim shook his head, “Spock, no.”

 

“Admiral, I believe this mission will benefit from my presence. It is only logical that you take down the best team possible. I believe our history proves that I am not insignificant in securing success.”

 

Jim looked to T’Pring. She had recovered well from her injuries, the babe safe. But it had been close. Only her telepathic link with the child had prevented disaster and Jim wasn’t willing to endanger their family any more than necessary. Ten Vulcans had been killed in the battle. Ten too many. Every katra was precious, a summer rain in the desert. “T’Pring, can’t you talk some sense into your bondmate?”

 

Her shoulder straightened, her eyes confident, “My mate’s logic is sound, as always. _Vokau_ wishes to do its part, Admiral. We will not be denied.”

 

Jim just sighed and looked around, seeing everyone’s smiles, “Does it even matter that I’m in charge?”

“No,” Uhura asserted.

 

“-Of course-” Gaila soothed, the women sharing a look of fond amusement between them. Jim just sighed, “All right. Fine. Come on, Spock. Commander Matthews, one of your men will have to sit out. We’ve agreed to a team of eight. With Spock, we’re one heavy. Have we received word from Kor?”

 

“Aye, Admiral. They’ve just arrived and have synchronized their de-cloaking and beam down to our mark.”

 

Jim just nodded at Scotty and made his way to the already crowded transporter pad. Spock murmured something at T’Pring in High Vulcan, gliding two fingers along hers, and took the place of an ensign from security. Uhura pressed a kiss against Scotty’s cheek, Sulu and Chekov embraced, sharing words and wishes for luck before joining the rest of the away team. Jim stepped onto the pad with Spock and Leo flanking him. His eyes caught Gaila’s and he sent her a wink, grinning when she returned it with a saucy smile and a bright, “Go get ’em, Admiral.”

 

“Anything for you, gorgeous. Scotty, energize.”

 

 

***

 

 

Twelve Klingons, impressive with their height, bulk, armor and weapons, materialized as they did. They had agreed to meet in the mountains near an old fortress, figuring the Romulans would have attempted to infiltrate the city before they even arrived. So he had contacted Kor on the Klingons arrival and arranged this change of location. The man had been suspicious but agreed when Jim agreed to him bringing an additional four warriors.

 

A tingle at the base of Jim’s spine alerted him to encroaching danger. He was immediately satisfied at the precautions he had taken. Their Organian hosts were waiting for them in the small stone building that would await them once the battle was concluded.

 

Mr. Young gave a squeak at the unfamiliar location, expecting to have been beamed into the capital city. Only Uhura, Scotty and Gaila had been told of the new location. Gaila was informing Captain Xhang and the rest of the bridge crew now, according to their plan.

 

Jim took a deep breath and strode forward, eyes on the larger, more impressive Klingon at the center. Captain Kor.

 

Kor strode forward and they clasped forearms, Jim putting a good chunk of his strength into squeezing. Kor returned it easily and they exchanged formal Klingon greetings before releasing each other. Jim nodded and got straight to the point, “Have you spotted our enemy?”

 

Kor grunted, “We estimate there are six Romulan ships in orbit. Scum.”

 

He spit, to properly show his disdain. Jim spit as well, speaking easily, “We scanned and found eight anomalies. We think six are in orbit and two are on planet.”

 

Before Kor could respond, Spock stepped forward, “Admiral, I am detecting over a hundred vulcanoid lifesigns approaching these mountains and I have lost communications with the Perseus.”

 

Jim only nodded. The battle had begun. Exactly as expected. As planned. The Galilei would be coming in to assist the Perseus and Kor’s ship would be signaling another two Klingon birds of prey waiting at the edge of Klingon space. They would fight this battle together.

 

Kor exchanged rapid-fire directions at his warriors, before turning to Jim, “It seems a skirmish with these Romulan pigs is ahead of us, Kirk.”

 

Jim just grinned and clasped arms with Kor again, “It is a good day to die, is it not?”

 

The Klingon considered Jim for a long minute before throwing his head back and laughing long and well. “I am pleased your reputation was not exaggerated, Admiral. It is indeed a good day to die. _Qapla' batlh je_.”

 

“Success and honor,” Jim returned back in Standard.

 

Both captains moved to marshal their forces, grunting in satisfaction when the light whine of a transporter sounded and suddenly there were four Federation security teams and an additional three Klingon teams standing there. That placed their numbers from twenty to nearly a hundred. They would be evenly matched. For now.

 

Jim turned to the nearly hyperventilating diplomat and grasped his arm, “Young . . . Young!’

 

When frightened eyes turned to him, Jim looked to him, “Look, we need to get to cover. You get into the fortress, the Organians are waiting for you. They’ll take you below ground, shelter you.”

 

The man frantically shook his head, “I insist you beam me up to the ship until the talks begin.”

 

Jim looked up to see his crew and the Klingons forming into teams, security passing out extra weaponry, and beginning to move them into the mountains, Sulu, Uhura, Spock, Matthews, and four Klingons would be leading eight teams into the mountains. Jim would lead a larger team of fifteen with Kor to the base of the mountains, the first line of defense. Leo was at Jim’s side, pale but holding his phaser, a phaser rifle already strung across his back. Jim turned his attention back to the diplomat and with a roll of his eyes, began pulling him along, “We can’t reach the ship right now. In case you missed it, we are in the middle of a fucking battle zone. The Perseus and the Galilei, are in the middle of fending off Romulan warbirds determined to take us out. A hundred Romulan troops are heading for us, no doubt armed with things we aren’t. So, if you want to live, you’ll do exactly as I say. And I say you get your ass up to that damn house!”

 

And with that, Jim gave him a shove and turned to Leo, who was still at his side, “That goes for you too.”

 

“Like hell.”

 

Jim was already walking toward Kor and his waiting team when Leo objected. He turned around rapidly, striding forward and grabbing Leo’s shoulders, “I can’t fucking do this with you here! God, Bones, this isn’t a diplomatic talk. This is a battle! People are going to die. We aren’t all going to escape this. I need you up at the house. We’ll be bringing the injured there and they’ll need you. So please! Please. Get up to that fucking building!”

 

Leo’s hands were clenched and it was only the naked emotion in Jim’s eyes and the knowledge that yes, they were going to need a doctor, which made him agree. He finally gave a short nod, which Jim returned before moving again.

 

A hand on his arm stopped him, whirling him around and before he could object, strong lips were pressed to his, taking his mouth harshly and quickly. Before Jim could even respond, Leo pulled away and was glaring at him, “You fucking promised you would come back and I’m holding you to that damn promise. You understand?”

 

Jim nodded feebly, still feeling the warmth of Leo’s lips tingling through him, the strength in his hands. At that moment, Romulans, Klingons, and pending death no longer existed. Leo held his gaze for a moment longer before giving a satisfied nod, “I’m giving you three hours, Jim. Three hours to get your ass into that fortress. You don’t and I’m coming after you. Here.”

 

He slapped a hypo against Jim’s neck, ignoring a yelp, “It’ll help that delay you’re experiencing. And we’ll be talking about you neglecting to tell your doctor important medical information soon.”

 

And with a last kiss, Leo was striding into the building, calling to the six medics that had beamed down with the security team, briefing them on the arrangements he wanted and dividing up the supplies they brought. A medic would go with each team while one stayed with Leo, setting up a makeshift infirmary.

 

Jim watched for a moment, smiling slightly, feeling his brain and body settle in together once more, and laughed. This just might actually work.

 

He moved towards Kor, still waiting with his warriors and saw the man smirk, “Ready, Admiral Kirk?”

 

Jim just grinned and stripped off his uniform, revealing the black undershirt. “Call me Kirk. No room for politics. Here, we fight as what we are. Warriors.”

 

Kor just nodded in approval and they began making their way into the rocks below them. They would defend from above and use the fortress as a last resort. One they hopefully wouldn’t need.

 

 

***

 

It had been two hours and no one had word of Jim. Leo was busy, incredibly busy. He’d performed five makeshift surgeries, lost two, and had three patients stable, two humans and one Klingon. And had had patients coming in and out, getting fixed up enough to return to their teams. He refused to acknowledge his relief when none of them had been Jim.

 

He had seen Uhura briefly, when she’d dragged an ensign from security in, gotten a stimulant shot, and disappeared again. He’d heard Sulu was still out there, kicking ass with a phaser and occasionally his katana if a Romulan got too close to their location.

 

Spock seemed to still be alive and had his calm veneer stripped away if the security lieutenant who’d needed his wrist reattached was to be believed. They’d apparently been beset by twenty Romulans who’d managed to creep around them and they had attacked from above. Spock had apparently taken out twelve in hand-to-hand combat himself. This had been related in a tone of awe that Leo could only shake his head at.

 

The Organian hosts had been distant at first, remaining below ground with Mr. Young. But soon Leo was overrun with injuries and the Organian leader had brought up a couple of younger Organians who, without a word, began helping Leo, cleaning up blood administering hypos that Leo called out.

 

In the lulls, he had begun speaking to them. They were polite, calm, but distant. And there was something . . . different about them. Whenever they touched an injury, rather than tense the patient would relax beneath their hands, and inevitably the injury was less serious than had previously been imagined.

 

It puzzled Leo. Finally he had turned to the president, “Are Organians naturally geared towards healing?”

 

The president merely gave a partial smile, “We honor and value healing.”

 

“But is there something in the Organian body chemistry that makes them more adept to it?” Leo persisted.

 

Fathomless eyes blinked at him, “You seem quite adept as well, Doctor.”

 

Leo shrugged and continued to pass the bone regenerator over the young woman passed out on his table. He’d had to knock her out when she insisted she just needed a couple of painkillers. Her leg would be healed in twenty minutes and that was soon enough. “I come from a family of doctors. I started learning from my father when I was just a boy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”

 

“You family must be honored among Terrans.”

 

Leo shot him a confused glance, “Doctors are appreciated on Earth. I’m not sure what you mean by honored.”

 

The man seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, “Perhaps the warlike nature of Terrans prevents them from honoring healers as they should.”

 

Leo’s brows shot up, “Warlike? Maybe in the past, but now Earth is part of the Federation, which seeks peace.”

 

“And yet we are in the midst of battle. There are those who are dying as we speak, those killing and being killed.”

 

Leo scowled at the tone in his voice. “We came here for peace talks. It is the Romulans who waged war. Who are seeking to destroy us.”

 

“And yet they were not offered peace. How do you know they will not accept if offered the chance to end the killing?”

 

“We _had_ peace with Romulus. Then one of their insane citizens _destroyed_ Vulcan. Six billion Vulcans perished. Hundreds of Starfleet personnel died trying to stop them. Then rather than seeking to maintain peace after that, Romulus began preparing for war, allying with the Orion Syndicate . . . who are slavers. Don’t we have the right to defend ourselves from them?”

 

Leo’s voice was increasing in volume until the patient beneath his hands flinched. He immediately calmed, soothing her gently and once again moving the regenerator over tibia.

 

The president only blinked, “But how can a lasting peace be built on death?”

 

Leo looked at him, “We’ve tried talks. They’ve all failed. We have no options left. The only thing with can do is ally with the Klingons in hopes that that will persuade Romulus to pull back before war is declared.”

 

The man seemed to consider this for a long moment. As he was about to speak, a team rushed in, two members carrying a third, their Klingon team leader barking out instructions in Klingon and standard, several men pushing their way past Leo and up the stairs. The young Organians moved immediately to the bleeding Klingon warrior and Leo moved to the leader, “What’s happened? What’s going on?”

 

The warrior towered over Leo, which didn’t stop him from poking her in the shoulder. The Klingon looked at him, shock at being poked evident in her eyes, and growled, “The Romulan numbers have swelled. We have returned to the fortress to set up to make a last stand, as ordered by Captain Kor.”

 

Before Leo could respond, Sulu was pushing through the doors, green and red blood covering his command gold, cuts and burns streaking across his cheeks. His team spreading out in the courtyard, taking up defensive positions, “Dr. McCoy, the Admiral has ordered that I am to take you underground with the Organians.”

 

“Jim? You’ve heard from Jim?” Leo grabbed his arms.

 

The captain nodded, eyes softening a bit from the cold concentration that had been there before, “Ten minutes ago. The Romulans are being reinforced. Gaila managed to get him a message that there were eight warbirds surrounding Organia. They’ve told the fleet but they’re amassed at the Neutral Zone, four days away. The Klingons sent an additional two birds of prey but one has been destroyed and the other two are without their cloaking abilities.  They’ve managed to reduce the Romulans down to four warbirds, but the Perseus and Galilei are heavily damaged. If something doesn’t change soon, they won’t make it. Xhang and Gaila will have to institute the omega protocol.”

 

“The omega protocol?”

 

Sulu’s eyes were level, “The Romulans can’t be allowed to capture the flagship. It has information about Federation defenses, codes. It cannot be allowed to fall into Romulan hands. The blast will take out everything within twenty light years, creating a dead zone. The Perseus has already drawn the Romulans away from the planet in order to ensure the minimum distance has achieved from Organia.

 

“Admiral Kirk and Captain Kor on their way back. As is Spock. Spock will take you and the Organians below ground. He says there are tunnels that can get you back into the city and hopefully you’ll be able evade Romulan hands long enough for the Klingons to get you out. Kor’s ship has signaled for reinforcements, but it will take them a few hours to get here.”

 

“What?!”

 

Sulu sighed, “The admiral will explain further when he gets here. But Spock can’t be allowed to fall into Romulan hands either. Long story.”

 

Suddenly the sound of phaser fire was even closer and Uhura came running through the doors, shouting in Klingon behind her. The translation came soon enough, “Two of you on the roof and the other four I want blasting stones in the backside of this mountain and moving them to the front of the building to provide additional cover. GO!”

 

Figures were scrambling behind her and a Klingon warrior was following with a look of deep respect in his eyes. There was a wide cut bleeding on her cheek and Leo moved towards her, grabbing antibiotic and a dermal regenerator on his way. “Nyota, where’s Jim?”

 

She stood still enough to be treated, not objecting but speaking sharply to the Klingon warrior. Incredibly, whatever she grunted at him was enough to make him bow deeply and move back out of the door. She turned to Leo, “He’s on his way. Leonard, he’s not well. I could hear it in his voice.”

 

Leo’s hands paused but not for long. He only nodded and turned to Ensign Hart, barking out a series of order to him. In no time a bed was cleared, a neural regenerator brought out, and a series of hypos Leo had set aside for Jim were laid out.

 

The cut on Nyota’s cheek disappeared and as soon as it was, she moved away, jogging up the steps calling out, “Hikaru, get the Organians below ground!”

 

Everyone was in motion around him, windows being shut and blocked, infirmary beds being pushed towards the back room, patients being carried. Medics came in with additional patients and when Leo went help, Sulu grabbed his arm, “You need to get downstairs. Spock’s on his way.”

 

Spock came through the doors, bleeding green from a wide cut on his forehead, clearly favoring his left side. “Doctor McCoy, you must come with me.”

 

 _Was there anyone Jim hadn’t commed to remove Leo from his work_?

 

He didn’t realize he had shouted the question until he heard a wry, “No,” coming from the doors.

 

 _Jim_.

 

He was limping, being helped by Captain Kor himself, who was also bleeding and limping, his left arm pouring blood so that it was dripping behind him.

 

Of course he was limping. Blood had soaked his trouser legs, but what was more worrying was the blood trickling out of his nose. There was already a neuro-regenerator strapped to his forehead. _Where the hell had he gotten that_?

 

Leo evaded Sulu’s hand and strode over, turning Jim’s face and seeing that one of his pupils had blown and blood was leaking out of his right ear. _Shit_.

 

“Hart, get the bed over here now! I want-”

 

Kor and Jim strode right past him, moving directly over the Thakias, the Organian leader. Kor growled something and Jim, with a glare Leo had never seen before, pinned the man with his gaze, “What the fuck are you people?”

 

“Admiral Kirk, I am uncertain as to your meaning.”

 

Jim lunged forward, grabbed the man’s simple shirt and yanking him forward, “Don’t fucking give me that! My people are dying out there. Up there.”

 

“Admiral, please explain your anger.” His reply was even, undisturbed, and Leo’s brows rose in surprise. The sheer fury emanating off of Jim was enough shake most men.

 

Jim shook his head, “We came here for _peace_. You agreed to host peace talks. We were told your society was simple, not interested in advance development, peaceful and unable to defend yourselves. So explain to me how when a group of your citizens somehow managed to fucking _appear_ between our team and a Romulan unit, they _stopped_ the phaser fire and then _waved_ all of our weapons away?! You aren’t even close to undeveloped! So I repeat, what the hell are you and what kind of game are you playing? Are you in league with the Romulans?”

 

Thakias considered Jim for a moment and then stepped back, dislodging Jim’s hand as if it weren’t even there. Leo rushed forward but a sharp glare from Jim pushed him back. Silence filled the hall and the two Organians who had been helping Leo moved to flank their leader. To everyone’s combined amazement, a shimmer began emitting from their skin, colors flickering in and out, rendering them almost translucent. Slowly they disappeared, until there were only vague outlines of energy crackling in the air. Thakias’ voice had deepened and Leo was reminded of that old Terran holovid, of Moses on the mountain. “We are an ancient race, Admiral Kirk. We evolved beyond physical bodies millennia ago, eventually becoming true energy, occupying all and no point in space.”

 

Kor seemed as surprised as Kirk but recovered first, “You are powerful.”

 

“We are energy with the power to manipulate energy. What you consider power we consider natural.”

 

Jim’s eyes glazed and after a long moment he spoke, “You could stop this. Stop the fighting, stop the war. You could stop it all, couldn’t you?”

 

The voice echoed, carried, seemed to come from all around them, which was creeping Leo the fuck out. “We have long removed ourselves from the petty squabbles of this space. We have learned that there is little that will keep you from destroying each other.”

 

Leo watched as Jim’s eyes blazed, fists tightening, “Bullshit. That is such bullshit. Wars have been stopped, peace has been declared. It may not always last, but we have found ways in the past to stop us from destroying ourselves. We do what we can. What is your excuse? Where is the logic in having the ability to stop war but failing to do so? You look down on us for warring? Well, what is your excuse?”

 

“Your wars do not concern us.” Thakias brushed aside dismissively.

 

“Like hell they don’t! I assume that you can be killed. Otherwise why end the phaser fight to spare your people?”

 

Thakias’ light shimmered in agreement, “The energy frequencies of phaser fire disturbs our own. While we do not experience death as you know it, it is a loss of ourselves, a transformation of energy unnatural to us.”

 

“As is death to us,” Jim asserted swiftly. “We are all forms of energy, forms of being, of living. We all are unique and individual, not matter how many we number. Each life, _each life_ is precious and valued! And to sit back and do _nothing_ while those lives are ended, makes you no better than those killing. You have the power to save lives. Human, Vulcan, Klingon, Orion, and hundreds of others. So why not stop this battle?”

 

The sounds of battle were closer. Leo could hear screams outside, shouts, the sound of Romulans surrounding them. He felt his heart lurch and his fists clench.

 

Thakias rematerialized into his previous humanoid form, a considering expression on his face, “You speak most passionately in defense of life, Admiral Kirk. And I can see from your energy that you are an honorable man. Would you offer peace to your enemies if we were to do what you are asking?”

 

Jim nodded swiftly, without hesitation, as if a couple hundred Romulans were not outside the walls, seeking to kill him. “Two days ago I sent a transmission to a Romulan senator, known for pursuing peace with the Federation previously. He is on a Romulan warbird above us, but the Romulan commanders will not allow him to negotiate a ceasefire while they have the upper hand.”

 

Leo heard the swift intake of breath Uhura gave, felt the violent twitch of Sulu next to him. Only Kor seemed unsurprised at the news. For a Federation Admiral to contact the Romulan Star Empire during a time of conflict, privately and without approval, was treason. Even Leo knew that. Clearly, Jim had kept the information from his crew. No doubt to protect them from any political fall out.

 

Thakias studied Jim for a long moment, measuring him, “You are most unusual, Admiral Kirk. We have not encountered another like you among your race. We will accede to your request and allow the talks to occur without further-”

 

The doors were blasted open and Leo turned, phaser in his hand, and shot once, hitting a Romulan who was midair, lunging toward Jim. His phaser disappeared and the man fell to the ground, stunned.

 

Thakias turned to Leo, disappointment clear in his eyes, and Leo shifted uncomfortably, “It’s instinct to protect those we l . . . those who are dear to us. Besides, he’s not dead. Just stunned.”

 

Now everyone was staring at him in surprise and only had a moment to blink before Romulans were skidding to a halt, staring at their hands in surprise, suddenly phaserless. Angry and shocked shouts came from outside, a sudden cacophony rising of curses and shouts in Standard, Romulan, and Klingon.

 

When a Romulan commander snarled, reached for his _vrelnac_ , sword, his suddenly found his hands empty once more, and unable to move. Thakias’ voice sounded, echoing out of the hall and into the mountains, “No more blood shall be spilled. Bring forth your leaders.”

 

He turned to Jim, “Admiral, you will find communications have been restored with your ship and all fighting has been stopped. We had previously prepared a room for your talks with Captain Kor. Perhaps you would like to use it presently?”

 

Jim blinked around him in surprise. Even when he had been arguing for this, he didn’t think it would really be granted. Feeling hope for the first in two hours, he hit his communicator, “Kirk to Perseus?”

 

There was a pause and then the shocked sound of Chekov’s voice, “Admiral?”

 

Jim just grinned and Hikaru shot out a relieved breath, “Chekov, please hail the Romulan ship _Rhian_ and let them know we request the presence of Senator Pardek.”

 

Another long pause, “Admiral? I do not understand vhat is happening.”

 

“I know, Commander, but trust me. Do it. Kirk out.”

 

Leo moved to Jim as they waited, removing the neuro-generator so he could take readings. Even while he did, he pressed the hypo Hart had slipped into his hand against his neck, releasing a painkiller and hearing Jim sigh in relief.

 

Leo frowned at his medical tricorder and the readings it was giving him. “Jim, you need medical attention. Now.”

 

He whispered it quietly but Kor still turned and lifted a brow. Leo met his gaze, “You both do.”

 

Chekov’s voice interrupted, “Admiral, the Romluan warbird has responded. They vill send Senator Pardek to your coordinates in ten minutes. They . . . ve all are confused as to vhat has happened to our veapons, Admiral. Vhy are ve unable to move or fire?”

 

Jim smiled at that. “Let’s just say a moratorium on war has been declared while we all talk. Chekov, there’s no need to inform Starfleet of the details. Just let them know that the fighting has stopped and talks have resumed. When they ask, tell them you don’t know anything more than that.”

 

“I do not know anything more than that, Admiral.” The pout was clear in his voice.

 

“All the easier for you then.” Jim teased. “Oh and Chekov?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“Sulu, Uhura, and Spock all say hello.”

 

There was a long pause and the sound of Gaila in the background shouting _Yes_! and then Chekov, relief clear in his voice, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Perseus out.”

 

Leo moved before anyone could ask Jim anything and had the medics move him and Kor to a couple of beds. One of the Organians moved to Kor’s side and began working on his arm. Another moved to Jim and frowned at Leo, “He needs more than what we can do for him.”

 

Leo knew. The readings had told him there was significant bleeding in the temporal lobe, which had caused his front lobe to begin swelling as that was where the blood was pooling. It needed to be evacuated and the tear repaired. He needed surgery. Again.

 

Jim knew it too. He was already shaking his head, slowly and carefully, “No, Bones. No. I have to finish this. Fix me up as best as you can in the next ten minutes. We have a peace treaty to hammer out.”

 

Leo studied him. One eyes was still a bright blue but the other only had a thin ring of blue, the pupil wide and showing signs of damage. There was significant bleeding his brain if it was seeping down to the optic nerve. Leo began administering hypos and moved a nerve regenerator to his neck at the base of his skull. He spoke quietly, “I’ll do the best I can but I can only give you an hour. Ninety minutes at the most. After that, you’ll lose consciousness.”

 

Jim closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, there was only determination to be seen. “Do it. And get Spock in here.”

 

Ten minutes later and a furiously whispered conversation in Klingon between Jim, Spock, and Kor, they heard the distinctive whine of a transporter. Jim and Kor came to their feet and moved to the center of the hall. There, flanked by five Romulans, stood Senator Pardek, young and dangerous looking. Which was nothing compared to the Romulans around him and the truly vicious looks they were sending Spock’s way.

 

Senator Pardek took in the presence of Spock before turning his gaze to Jim, “Admiral Kirk, your exploits are legendary. Though I admit, these events are somewhat of a surprise.”

 

“To us all, Senator. I’m pleased to see you got my message and decided to come.”

 

Pardek smiled, which was not at all comfortable, “It was an intriguing message, Admiral. I could not resist.”

 

Jim merely nodded, “Then let’s talk it over. We will all choose a second to come with us. Captain Uhura will be joining us for the Federation.”

 

“A woman?” Pardek questioned silkily.

 

A Klingon behind them snorted and Uhura only narrowed her eyes slightly before moving to stand beside Jim. Jim merely looked at her and then back at Pardek, “She is fluent in both dialects of Klingon and all three dialects of Romuluan. I feel it is best to make sure there are no misunderstandings. Don’t you agree?”

 

Pardek only sent Uhura a reevaluating glance before choosing his second and Kor choosing his. Pardek looked around at the six of them in the center of the hall and used that disturbing smile once more, “Come, Admiral, let us commit treason.”

 


	12. Committing Treason

_Fifteen minutes later - Hall_

 

“So, I heard you took out twelve Romulans in hand-to-hand combat?”

 

Spock spared a glance at Sulu, who was flecked quite significantly with green blood, and arched a brow, “I was informed you are considered by your men to be ‘a badass ninja’.”

 

There was a stunned moment when everyone turned to the Vulcan, shocked and amused by such words coming in such a tone from that particular being.

 

The laugh escaped Sulu before he could stop it and he took a note from Jim’s book and clapped Spock on the shoulder, “Just trying to live up to my XO and Captain’s reputations.”

 

 

 _Fifteen minutes later - Room_

 

 

“-EMPIRE CAME TO US FOR THE CLOAKING DEVICE, IT WAS SWORN THAT THE D7 WARSHIPS WERE-”

 

“-NOT TOLD OF THE MODIFICATIONS NECESSARY FOR THE CLOAKING DEVICE TO BE COMPAT-”

 

Jim sighed and leaned over to Uhura, “I’m pretty sure my brain is bleeding again and that it’ll stop before they do. Just kill me now.”

 

Uhura patted his shoulder and brought two slim fingers to her lips.

 

A sharp and incredibly _loud_ whistle pierced the air and caused Jim to slap his hands over his ears and Kor and Pardek to stop yelling mid-word and turn to Uhura incredulously.

 

Her voice, when she spoke, however, was modulated and smooth, “Perhaps our time is best spent building a future peace, as opposed to arguing over past squabbles like boys arguing over a schoolyard trade.”

 

 

 

 _Thirty minutes later - Hall_

 

 

“Matthews! Ooh, to the right, the right!!!!”

 

Groans sounded throughout the hall as the Romulan Centurian pinned Matthews under him and when the count hit three, the Romulans gave a synchronized cheer, “ _Vauthil_! _Vauthil_! _Vauthil_!”

 

Sulu sighed, “I suppose that was inevitable.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Sulu gave him a considering look, “Who do you think would win between a Klingon and a Romulan?”

 

Spock slid him a look, “If they were evenly matched and without weapons, the Romulan.”

 

“Between a Romulan and a Vulcan?”

 

He must have asked the question louder than he intended because the Romulan delegation turned to stare intently at Spock, clearly trying to glare him into intimidation. Spock merely blinked at them and spoke blandly, “One hundred and fifty Romulan soliders invaded Vokau. Thirty Vulcans remained in the city to defend. One hundred and thirty-five Romulans perished, fifteen were captured. Ten Vulcans were lost. I believe the children of Vulcan have answered this question satisfactorily.”

 

Sulu contained his laughter this time.

 

 

 

 _Thirty minutes later - Room_

 

 

“The Federation believes that it is _entitled_ to whatever it desires, simply because it has painted itself as the defender of freedom. The fate the Federation offers the Rhiannsu is not one of freedom, Admiral Kirk.”

 

Jim held up his hands, “Look, no one said we were going to become friends. The Romulan Star Empire, the Klingon Empire, and the Federation have completely different outlooks on society, to the point where they are completely incompatible. There is no arguing that.”

 

Both Kor and Pardek grunted in agreement and Kirk continued, “No one in the Federation, at least, no one with half a brain, is seeking to unite _everyone_ under the Federation umbrella. Hell, I don’t want to be Romulan or Klingon anymore than you want to be Terran. Though the extra strength would be awesome.”

 

This caused smirks and an eye roll from Uhura.

 

“But we can respect each others boundaries. Not because we believe in each other, but because we are all practical individuals and acknowledge that boundaries, rules, and discipline are needed, even if not convenient or particularly wanted.”

 

“You, Admiral Kirk, are arguing for boundaries?” Kor smirked.

 

Jim returned it easily, “I can’t break ’em if they don’t exist.”

 

 

 

 _Forty minutes later- Hall_

 

 

Thakias watched as the men and women who were so intent on killing each other just a short time ago gradually began to intermix, speaking with each other, an occasional growl or laugh ringing out.

 

He turned to Alanae, their primary Healer, “I do not understand these beings. They fight so ferociously but now, they speak as if they are friends. Do you understand them?”

 

Alanae was watching as a Romulan soldier strode across the hall to introduce himself to a diminutive Terran woman, fairly covered in blood not her own. He had been watching her since his arrival. And underneath the blood, Alanae was sure she was a beautiful woman. She had lovely features. And apparently the heart of a warrior. But it was when the Klingon who was muttering something to her made her laugh, her head tilting back, that the Romulan moved.

 

Alanae smiled slowly, “No, I do not. But I am intrigued by them. They are so passionate.”

 

“Violent.” Thakias returned.

 

Alanae considered this, continuing to watch as the Romulan said something that made the woman narrow her eyes and mutter something. His body took the position of being affronted, but not his eyes. “At times perhaps. But I do not believe that is all they are.”

 

 

 

 _Forty minutes later - Room_

 

 

“Nero destroyed our fleet!”

 

“He did not speak for the Empire.”

 

“He destroyed an entire planet!”

 

“Since when do Klingons care for the fate of Vulcan?”

 

“Seriously, Uhura, just kill me now.”

 

 

 

 _Fifty minutes later - Hall_

 

 

Leo growled, “He isn’t going to last much longer.”

 

“The Admiral has an extraordinary ability to defy expectations.”

 

Leo shot Spock and annoyed glance, “At what cost?”

 

Spock looked at Leo, and Leo could swear there was empathy in those dark eyes, “I have yet to discover a cost Jim wouldn’t pay in order to save lives, Dr. McCoy. He has experienced so much death that he reveres life. That reverence is at the very heart of who he is. It is what defines him.”

 

Leo just sighed, “I know, dammit. I just wish . . . I wish he would revere his own life a little more.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

 

 

 _Fifty minutes later - Room_

 

 

“You’re not getting the formula to the red matter.”

 

“Then there is no point in speaking any further.”

 

Jim, whose patience was at an end, slammed his hand down and his voice narrowed, “A _planet_ was destroyed. Six billion lives. Whether you liked them or not . . . it was six _billion_ lives. If you can’t understand that, if you can’t acknowledge what a massive loss that was, how could we ever justify giving you the formula to something that could end us all?

 

“There is such a thing as a weapon too powerful to be used. Earth nearly destroyed itself in a nuclear holocaust, your ancestors were so violent, they drove themselves to extinction multiple times before some kind of order was imposed, Klingons have created a society of discipline and order because their nature almost destroyed them. Left unchecked, we are _all_ capable of immense destruction. And history shows that reason is too often cast aside in the search for power.

 

“So no, the Federation will not offer up the one individual who may know the formula. Because we don’t know where he is. The original Vulcan who came through that wormhole has disappeared. If he is still in our universe, no one knows where.”

 

“Spock knows.” Pardek’s eyes were calculating.

 

Jim’s eyes went flat, “You can’t have him.”

 

“He was meant to save Romulus. If the Federation is seeking peace, surely Spock would wish to perhaps prevent the fate that caused the destruction of his planet.”

 

Jim felt a moment of triumph, but squashed it before it could show. This is what he had been waiting for.

 

“Because your star is going supernova in a hundred years.”

 

“All readings do indicate unusual activity in the heart of the star. While we have located another planet in our Empire on which we could move, if we can save Romulus . . .”

 

Jim’s mouth twitched, “The red matter was never meant to save the planet, only block the blast long enough to evacuate. Romulus could never survive without your sun. The planet would die, freeze, soon after. Therefore, the advanced warning of the star going supernova is far more effective than the red matter would ever be.”

 

“We have only your word on that.”

 

“And the fate of Vulcan, which was destroyed by the singularity created by the injection of red matter into the core.”

 

Kor was watching the exchange and suddenly asked, “What is causing the supernova?”

 

And Jim nearly smiled again when Pardek flinched.

 

“A star that goes supernova shows signs for millennia prior to the event. All stars in systems that hold life are constantly monitored, the dates of their deaths known well in advanced. If the Romulan star unexpectedly goes supernova, it cannot be a natural death.”

 

Jim nodded, “Indeed, Captain Kor. It is a question the Federation has been asking since Nero’s attack. One that Romulus has not answered. Senator?”

 

Pardek’s features were shuttered, “Are you implying something, Admiral?”

 

Jim rolled his eyes. “We both know that the only thing that can cause such a dramatic change in the life of a star is either an injection into or removal out of the heart of the star. And the only reason to try and harness that kind of energy reaction is to create an unbelievable molecular reaction. At the current time, there are no materials that could withstand the heat produced in that kind of reaction to make a new energy source. But if you can delay that reaction, much in the way red matter was prevented from colliding, then you make a weapon. An unbelievable weapon that could destroy . . . anything, everything. Any of this sounding familiar, Senator?”

 

 

 

 _Fifty-five minutes later - Hall_

 

 

Uhura, along with the Klingon and Romulan second appeared in the hall, and everyone went silent. It was Uhura who spoke, “Spock, the Admiral needs you.”

 

Spock only nodded and moved forward, not bothered by the stare of everyone in the hall. Uhura moved to Leonard, who was increasingly wild eyed and agitated, and let him grill her on Jim’s appearance and manner.

 

 

 

 _Sixty-five minutes later - Room_

 

 

Spock looked at the papers drawn up, recognizing Nyota’s careful penmanship and excellent language skills, and considered all of the viewpoints presented. “Agreed.”

 

Jim shook his head, “I will come with you when you go.”

 

“If I go. A solution is not guaranteed. In fact, it is dependent on unprecedented scientific access to Romulan space.”

 

“Do you doubt my word, Spock?”

 

“Senator, Romulan secrecy is well known. Your society has never offered this level of access prior to this moment.”

 

“We have never needed anyone’s help in the way we need yours.”

 

“I cannot guarantee a solution.”

 

Pardek shrugged, “We have other plans in place if needed.”

 

Spock picked up the pen. It was unusual for agreements to be written out. But no party could afford to have this on a PADD, where their own governments monitored documents and communications. Documents being sent between a Federation admiral, a Klingon Imperial captain, and a Romulan senator would be noted. Definitely noted. And there was something . . . honored about the use of a paper, a precious resource for all three cultures.

 

He signed his name under the Romulan provision section on all three copies. He would provide scientific analysis from _Vokau_ , Romulus sending him data on the star’s progress in an effort to find a solution to prevent the star from going supernova. Once a year, he would make the trip into Romulan space, with Jim, to take direct readings himself. And the results would be shared with the VSA, but not the Federation government itself.

 

Spock looked up and met Pardek’s eyes. If he was not mistaken, there was relief there. “I should be clear, Senator. Should I be taken forcibly on any occasion, I will not hesitate to self-terminate should it become necessary in order to keep the formula for the red matter unknown.”

 

“Even with your Captain?”

 

Jim shrugged, “He is not the only one who would die rather than become responsible for the death of worlds.”

 

Pardek’s head turned, “You are so sure Romulus would use this against the Federation.”

 

Spock turned his head, “The power of the red matter cannot be granted to any society or individual. The lure of power is too great for any to withstand. The VSA has agreed to never pursue the formula in the future, and neither the Federation nor the Vulcan Council was given the information. Nor will they. The surest way to ensure our mutual safety is to ensure that it remains unknown to this universe.”

 

Jim turned his head slightly, blinking to clear his eyes. This had been building for the last half hour or so. The pounding in his head had stopped, subsided to an overwhelming silence that placed everything at a distance. But they were nearly there. Nearly there.

 

 

 

 _Seventy minutes later - Hall_

 

 

Spock emerged and Uhura and her Klingon and Romulan counterparts rushed forward. Spock held up a hand and shook his head, “There is no need. They will be out shortly.”

 

“What happened? Is there an agreement?”

 

It was Sulu who asked the question but all were interested. Even the Romulans. Spock was gratified to see that they too seemed hopeful. Perhaps not all of Romulus was eager for war. “I would not wish to ruin the celebratory moment by undercutting the surprise.”

 

Everyone smiled, the room become visibly less tense. Terrans embraced each other, Klingons shoved each other, and Romulans gave non-committal grunts. 

 

Spock moved towards where Leo was leaning against a wall, scowling. He leaned close, speaking so no others could hear, “Doctor, you will want to alert medical bay. The Admiral is not well.”

 

 

 

 _Eighty-five minutes later - Room_

 

 

All that was waiting was his signature. Jim gripped the edge of the desk and breathed out slowly, trying to focus.

 

Both Pardek and Kor were evaluating him. He may have fought with Kor, may have forced the Senator to acknowledge what he hadn’t wanted to, but he knew that wouldn’t negate any weakness he showed in his presence.

 

So he lifted his eyes, forcing them to focus, ignoring the shooting pain that sent through his head and the blood he could feel trickling out of his ears, the blood gradually soaking through his shirt from the phaser burn Leo hadn’t had time to find on his chest.

 

Kor arched his brows, “Will you live long enough to see this treaty to the Federation, Admiral?”

 

Pardek looked intently, no doubt cataloging every scrape, every bleeder, every blown pupil and what exactly it meant.

 

Jim reached for the pen, keeping his eyes on them at all times. Pushing himself to his feet, pretending his knees didn’t want to buckle and his head didn’t swim, he pressed the pen to his chest, and when he reached down to the hand written treaty, his name was signed in his blood.

 

Doing the same for the remaining two, Jim gave them a trademark smirk, “Another round, ladies?”

 

Kor barked out a laugh and reached out and slapped Jim’s shoulder, eyes gleaming when Jim managed to keep his feet beneath him. Pardek only curled his lips and nodded. “We shall see if this holds up with our respective governments.”

 

Jim shrugged, “The part where we agree to send formal representatives in three months should make them happier. They can fight about trade agreements, mining rights, and all that other crap.”

 

Pardek shrugged, “Those matters are important in their own right.”

 

“Not on the brink of war.”

 

“I admit, Admiral, you surprise me. You are known more for fighting than seeking peace.”

 

Jim shrugged, “I look to end the fight. Whether that happens with fists, photon torpedos, or a damn piece of paper doesn’t really matter to me.”

 

Kor grinned, “You fought well today, Admiral. You might make a half decent Klingon. Not a warrior, of course, but still.”

 

Jim laughed slowly, hearing the disturbing rattle in his lungs, “That mean you guys are gonna take the price off my head?”

 

“But we honor you with that price. After this, it should only increase.”

 

“Great, Kor, just great.”

 

The giant merely grunted and swung a large hand forward, “Come, let us inform our soldiers that today is not our day to die. Though perhaps still a good day.”

 

 

 

 

 _Ninety minutes later - Hall_

 

 

The sound of the doors slamming against the walls resounding the hall and everyone turned, waiting. The three leaders emerged side by side, each holding a piece of paper.  And turning to face each other, they brought their hands in, clutching forearms in a triumvirate.

 

Cheers erupted at the action and they looked at each other. It was Jim who offered a smile and spoke, “Until we meet again.”

 

Kor broke off to go to his warriors, beaming up immediately. As Jim was heading to his people, Pardek’s hand stopped him. “You are an honorable man, Admiral. Rare among _hevamsu_. You should know that not all in your admiralty will greet the news of peace joyously.”

 

Jim’s eyes narrowed, “Komack.”

 

Pardek nodded, eyes gleaming in appreciation of Jim’s understanding, “There is a reason he has been advocating war. Would you care to know that reason, Admiral?”

 

Jim listened as Pardek began murmuring in Romulan, grateful he’d had Uhura teach him on a particularly boring jaunt through the beta quadrant. He wished he could be surprised. He really did. 

 

When Pardek was finished, Jim offered a deep incline of his head, “Thank you, Senator.”

 

“This peace will require the effort of many to last. And though the Praetor has not been convinced as yet, peace is in Romulus’ best interest. For now.”

 

And with that, the enigmatic Romulan senator walked away.  Jim was swaying on his feet and before he could turn, he was sandwiched between Leo and Spock, Uhura hitting her communicator, “Uhura to Perseus. Four to beam up.”

 

 

***

 

 

The senior crew stood in the conference room, all of them staring at the history-making piece of paper lying in the middle of the table, signed with Jim’s blood. Winona looked around, “I want all questions from Starfleet directed to my ship.”

 

Captain Xhang, newly patched up, was staring at the piece of paper in awe, “Yes, Commodore.”

 

Chekov sighed, “If ze Admiral was knowing that ze Romulan senator was to be coming, why would ze have fought ze Romulans anyway? Why was ze fighting necessary?”

 

Winona laid a hand on his shoulder, comforting. They had lost a lot of crew today. Amongst the two ships, they had racked up a death toll of over a hundred. “You can’t talk a Klingon into an alliance. You have to fight with them. And there was no better way to make the common enemy argument than to do so in battle. The Klingons were quite impressed with the Federation security forces today. And vice versa.

 

“As for the Romulans, it wasn’t guaranteed that they were coming here to talk. And if the Organians hadn’t interfered, today might have ended quite differently.”

 

“But ze Admiral . . .” Chekov trailed off, clearly worried.

 

He’d been swept into surgery almost the moment he’d gotten back to the ship. There had been no word as yet, twelve hours later. Winona gripped his shoulder hard, “Jimmy will be fine. He’s always fine.”

 

Everyone was silent for a moment and then Winona commanded, “Everyone back to your stations.”

 

The room cleared pretty quickly, until it was just Winona and Spock. She was still staring at the piece of paper that held her son’s blood. “Why is it always his blood, Spock? Why is the price always paid in a Kirk’s blood?”

 

Spock stepped up to stand directly beside her, “Perhaps it is only the Kirks who have the blind faith it takes to offer to pay?”

 

“Look before they leap.”

 

“Precisely. Though if asked, I would argue that Jim contains a significant amount of Bunting blood.”

 

Winona looked over him and smiled, “Are you complimenting or insulting me, Spock?”

 

Spock folded his hands behind his back and offered her a sardonic eyebrow, “Perhaps only you can provide the answer to that.”

 

Winona grinned, “Definitely insulting.”

 

“Commodore-”

 

“I have asked you repeatedly to call me Winona.”

 

A pause. Clearly a sigh. “Winona, before Jim went into surgery he asked that I meld with him.”

 

“McCoy must have been thrilled about that.”

 

Another pause. “Dr. McCoy had some concerns that were unfounded. As Jim and I have melded on previous occasions with no detrimental effect, we opted to continue. Senator Pardek imparted some information of a sensitive nature to Jim before departing. Information that I believe Starfleet should be aware of, but not those in Admiral Komack’s service.”

 

Winona turned to fully face Spock, hazel eyes sharp. “How dangerous is this information?”

 

“To Admiral Komack, very dangerous. To Jim, both dangerous and possibly career saving.”

 

“Komack will never allow Jim to go unpunished for this.”

 

“While I would offer to point out the illogical in punishing an individual for pursuing peace, I know it would not be heard by Admiral Komack. I believe this information given by Senator Pardek, if it can be substantiated, should prevent Jim from suffering any political consequences for his actions.”

 

Winona considered Spock carefully before kicking out a chair, “Perhaps we should sit.”

 

 

 

When Spock was done relaying the information he had seen in Jim’s mind, Winona was gazing over his shoulder, clearly calculating scenarios in her head. He recognized the look from Jim. After a long while, she finally turned to him, “I’ll take care of it.”

 

“Jim indicated that you would be the best person to do so.”

 

The smile Winona offered was not maternal, but the baring of teeth a lioness offered while defending her cub, “As you would say, Spock, indeed.”

 

 

***

 

 

Leo rubbed exhausted eyes, staring endlessly at the information the biobed was spitting out at him. The same information it had been giving for the last three days. The swelling was down but Jim still hadn’t woken up.

 

The cuts on his face had been healed, the bruising faded. In fact, he was in almost near perfect health. He just wouldn’t wake up.

 

The steady beeps of sickbay surrounded him but Leo had long tuned them out. It was three am ship time and they would be docking at Earth in eight hours. He’d spoken to his mother on the way back, trying to comfort her relieved sobs over the video comm hadn’t been fun. He’d even talked to Jocelyn, whose eyes were rimmed in red. She’d apologized endlessly for the timing but she’d moved out of the house and to Atlanta. And Leo didn’t really know what to make of the fact that he didn’t feel particularly upset about it. He wasn’t happy, but he was too worried about Jim to really make himself feel anything. And maybe that had been part of the problem all along.

 

He’d had plenty of time to think about what had gone wrong as he waited. He’d also helped Chapel in the sickbay, treating wounds, getting patients settled, cataloguing the dead. They’d stayed in orbit long enough to collect them all, each team reporting their numbers. They had only lost about fifteen security members on the planet, but the ships had sustained significant damage and quite a few had died in the blasts.

 

Chapel had known a good number of them and Leo had been quiet as he helped her. It was never easy to lose patients. Harder to lose those you knew, harder still those you’d never had the chance to save. But now there was nothing left to do but wait.

 

A small figure settled next to him, jarring him out of his thoughts. It was Winona Kirk. “No change?”

 

Leo sighed, “Some, but not quite enough apparently.”

 

“Will he wake up?”

 

It was the first time she had asked that question without _when_ prefacing it. He looked over to her, seeing the strength in her features and worry in her eyes. “It’s only been three days. He’s undergone surgery multiple times in a week. He may just need some time. Especially after running off after the first set of surgeries.”

 

“He has to save the world.” Winona murmured softly, reaching forward and tracing over one of Jim’s thick brows.

 

Leo arched a brow, “Does he? Why?”

 

Winona pressed a kiss to Jim’s forehead before looking at Leo, “Because he can’t save his father.”

 

“He was a newborn.”

 

Winona just quirked her lips in response. “Doesn’t stop the guilt.”

 

Leo just sighed and buried his face in his hands, “Christ.”

 

“I told you, that day in Madison, that Jim was complicated. That the easy smiles and the laughter, the careless air and cocky attitude were only part of him. That he was breakable. And I told you what would happen if you broke him.”

 

Leo’s head came up to see Winona now in front of him, eyes considering. “In detail. You know, I’ve been expecting you to punch me since I found you on my doorstep.”

 

A smile lit her face, “I wanted to. But now, looking at you, I’m not so sure Jim didn’t do a little breaking of his own. Maybe it’s best to wait and see if you two can fix each other.”

 

And with that she strode out.

 

Leo was left with that thought and staring at Jim. Slowly, his hand crept forward, sliding across the bed and tucking itself into Jim’s hand, tangling their fingers together. They twitched underneath him and Leo took some comfort that even while Jim was lost in his mind, his body still reached for Leo.

 

***

 

Fingers twitching around his, moving, pulling, is what woke Leo. He groaned when he moved, his neck and back violently protesting being bent over a biobed for eight hours. He pushed himself up and blinked exhausted eyes, only to see pure blue ones staring back at him confused, “McCoy? Leo? What are you doing here?”

 

“Jim? How are you feeling?”

 

Brows lifted, mouth quirking, “Confused. I’m clearly on a ship, pretty sure we’re in orbit, I’m in sickbay and have had surgery if I recognize this feeling correctly. But I don’t know why. Or why my surgeon of a neighbor is here. In space.”

 

Leo stopped breathing. He forced himself to take a calming breath. He had known memory could be affected, likely would be affected by the amount of bleeding that had occurred. It should return as the swelling continued to go down. He got up and took a light from his pocket, leaning over and checking Jim’s pupil response. The left pupil still wasn’t fully recovered, “How’s your sight?”

 

“Blurry on the left.”

 

Humming in acknowledgment, Leo began feeling alongside the suture lines. They were healing nicely. “The last thing you remember?”

 

“Umm, I remember, ah, talking to you on my porch, remember it raining and telling you about Kevin. Remember taking it easy the next couple of days. And then I woke up here. I think.” Jim paused to consider this, “I feel like I’ve been here awhile.”

 

Leo crossed his arms over his chest, “Well, some memory loss is to be expected after your injuries.” _Almost a year_ , Leo thought. And the most amazing six months of his life.

 

Jim was staring at him, “What are you doing here, Leo?”

 

He sighed, “Jim, I’ll tell you but not yet. For now, I think it’s best if you just see what comes to you in the next couple of hours.”

 

 

 _an hour later_

 

“Bones!”

 

It was the first time Jim had called him that since waking and Leo’s head whipped around. Jim was staring at him in shock, “I signed a peace treaty with a Romulan and a Klingon and lived? How the hell did that happen?”

 

Leo just sighed and shook his head.

 

 

 

 _fifteen minutes after that_

 

“ _Holy Shit_! Those bastards attacked New Vulcan?!”

 

 

 

 _ten minutes after that_

 

“Why do I have to overwhelming urge to punch you right now?”

 

 

 

 _thirteen minutes after that_

“I need to talk to Spock. And my mother. And Pike. Right now.”

 

 

Jim spent the next thirty minutes talking to those parties, conferencing Pike and Winona in, who was already on Earth at SCC. Winona had made sure the news of what happened had been leaked and also that it would be traced back to Leo, since as a civilian he was the only one on board who couldn’t be court marshaled. Well, Spock and T’Pring but Vulcans weren’t exactly known for their gossiping abilities.

 

Leo thought about arguing but shrugged. It’s not like they could do anything to him. And Winona hadn’t actually let them have enough time to have Leo sign a non-disclosure agreement. Which, come to think of it, was pretty handy. She must have known. Or at least suspected something.

 

Apparently, Komack was shouting treason, but since most of the planet was celebrating the aversion of war and James T. Kirk, not a whole lot of admirals were listening. Jim had been beloved since he’d stopped Nero. His exploits with Spock on the Enterprise had only increased his reputation. This had elevated him to nearly god-like worship. At least for the moment.

 

Winona was murmuring something about Komack, shady business dealings, and something to do with the Orion Syndicate. Leo wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but whatever it was, Pike was pissed and Jim and Spock were intent.

 

They had sketched out a rough plan of action and agreed that Jim would beam down to the planet in two hours time. While his memory wasn’t fully restored, the last week was and that was mostly what the admiralty needed. Any fuzziness prior to then would only help.

 

When Spock had left sickbay and Leo was left to finish Jim’s checkup and make notes on his chart, Jim looked up at him through his eyelashes, “I remember that I’m pretty pissed at you. I don’t remember why.”

 

Ignoring the ache in his heart, he shot Jim a wry glace, “I gathered that from the announcement that you would like to punch me.”

 

A shoulder shrugged, “You said to tell you whatever I remembered.”

 

Leo just snorted and Jim fell silent for a moment. “Why do I only remember pockets?”

 

Finishing the last note, Leo turned to Jim and gave him his full attention, “Like I was saying earlier, we don’t store our memories linearly. We tend to store them associatively. Which is why scent can trigger memories from multiple periods of your life. So, your memories relating to your current situation were the first to come back, then the memories that you associated with those and so on. Eventually, you should have all your memories returned.”

 

“Then why don’t I remember anything about you?”

 

Leo’s hands froze as he was about to send Jim’s chart to Starfleet Medical and he took a careful breath before releasing it. “There is still a lot about memory that we don’t know. We can only assume it will come back, particularly since you’ve recovered the last week quite quickly.”

 

“Have we been friends since that night? Cause I feel . . . friendly towards you. When I don’t want to punch you.”

 

Leo flushed at that and looked away, murmuring something about _Closer . . . six months_.

 

Jim eyes seemed to be laughing at him and Leo gave him a suspicious look, “What?”

 

And easy grin and Jim swung his legs over the side of the bed, “I’m gonna go change.”

 

Moving quickly, Leo was at Jim’s side, watching with eagle eyes as Jim got to his feet, causing the other man to roll his eyes, “Bones, I survived a battle and peace talks with the Klingon and Romulan Empires. I can walk to my quarters.”

 

Folding his arms over his chest, Leo raised a brow, “And as your personal physician on this boat, I’m gonna watch every damn step you take. This way when you collapse against the turbolift, which you will, I’ll be there to make sure you’re not passed out on the ground.”

 

Jim just shrugged a shoulder, and grabbed the robe Leo was holding. Leo could see the wince he was trying to cover when putting on the robe pulled at the semi-healed skin on his chest and arms. Saw the way he eased weight onto the leg that been cut into by a sword during the fight and Leo still wasn’t sure how that happened.

 

He walked evenly, but slowly. And Leo could tell it was difficult. He’d just pushed himself too far. It would take time for his body to heal.

 

By the time they had gotten to the turbolift, Jim was grimacing, “This sucks.”

 

“Eloquent.”

 

Another shrug, “Well, it does. I mean I wasn’t even seriously hurt in that last one.”

 

“Most of your organs have been operated on within the last week. Then, newly repaired, you put them through the goddamn obstacle course from hell. Then you had your second brain surgery and were unconscious for three days. So why is it surprising to you that you can’t just bound out of bed a few hours after waking up?”

 

“I recovered faster when I was twenty-five.”

 

Leo rolled his eyes, “Everyone recovers faster when they’re twenty-five.”

 

Jim shot him a mischievous look, “Man, and you’re five years older than I am. It would take you _months_ to recover from this shit.”

 

“You’re lucky you’re injured, infant.”

 

Leo swung one of Jim’s arms over his shoulders and bolstered his weight. When Jim was about to object, Leo just rolled his eyes, “Come on, save your strength. Your mother says Starfleet is swarmed with media. You’ll want to be walking on your own two feet then.”

 

“I don’t know, Bones,” Jim murmured, blue eyes sparkling flirtatiously at him, “I wouldn’t mind you carrying me.”

 

“I’m a doctor, Jim, not body builder.”

 

“You callin’ me fat, Bones?”

 

“I’ve seen what you eat. It’s only a matter of time.”

 

Jim laughed softly and suddenly Leo felt something in him ease. He was relieved there was still this between them. They were still them.

 

Jim punched in a code to his door and Leo helped him across the room and settled him on the bed, placing one knee on the bed and cradling Jim’s head as he eased him down. Surprisingly, Jim let him.

 

And when he was resting against his pillows, Jim slid his arm around from Leo’s neck and trailed long fingers across his shoulder and down his arm, making Leo catch his breath. Suddenly those eyes were no longer dancing with humor, but were deeper, more intent.

 

Forcing himself to swallow, Leo managed, “What are you doing?”

 

Full lips quirked and a tongue came out to wet them. Leo barely resisted the urge to bite one of those newly wet lips. It was hard to remember that Jim didn’t know how their relationship had changed. And why there was this anger between them.

 

“Bones?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Both of their voices had dropped and Leo hadn’t been able to make himself move from his place just yet. Intent eyes searched his face, “How much closer did we get?”

 

Leo reared back a bit but Jim’s hands slid onto his shoulder to prevent him from moving all the way back. And if there was a tremor in his voice, Leo couldn’t stop it, “Jim . . . do . . . do you remember?”

 

“No,” Jim murmured. “Not really. But I have this incredibly vivid image of you and me on a bathroom floor. And in my libary. And against a tree in that copse near my house. And . . .”

 

Leo’s eyes had fluttered shut when Jim had begun tracing his jaw with a thumb, occasionally brushing the corner of Leo’s mouth. But when the movement stopped, Leo’s eyes fluttered open to find Jim smiling at him, “And?”

 

“And in your car. I definitely remember a night in your car. Feeling the steering wheel against my back, the gearshift digging into my thigh.” Steady hands pulled Leo down and lost in the memory of the night, the sheer _relief_ of feeling Jim again, Leo couldn’t resist the urge to lose himself in Jim, to take comfort here.

 

The last week had been . . . a world apart. A world where nothing existed outside of the moment, where battles could be won and lost clearly, where peace could be declared and all parties returned to their corners. It was a world defined by lines- space and planet, hero and enemy, victory and defeat. It was easy to understand—no matter how strange it got. It was clear.

 

And Leo could see the appeal of that. Could see why Jim had found a home amongst the stars. For even as much remained unknown, the rules were the same. And it was the complete opposite of Madison, where Leo, Jocelyn, and Jim had created something messy and undefined, where nothing was known and understood.

 

So Leo couldn’t resist when Jim expertly shifted him to his side, even though he should. Let the flow of words wash over him until there was nothing else between them any longer.

 

“Remember the sound of the summer rain around us, warm drops splashing against us because we were too fucking into each other to roll up the windows.”

 

Fingers traced back down Leo’s arms and moved quickly when Leo went to strip off the robe.

 

“Remember the feel of you, hard underneath me, your jeans straining against mine when we pushed our cocks together.”

 

Leo’s shirt hit the ground beside the bed, revealing new territory to explore that those long fingers took immediate advantage of.

 

“You pulled my shirt off and threw it out the window. I didn’t even notice until I went looking for it. Didn’t notice because your mouth was on my chest.”

 

Starfleet medical pajamas went flying next, Leo’s mouth following Jim’s words and moving slowly over his chest. Biting and licking, sucking in marks to match the bruises, turning Jim’s body into a Pollock-like painting of passion and pain.

 

“My hands buried themselves in your hair, pulling you into me so you wouldn’t think to move away. Your mouth was still new to me and I hadn’t gotten enough of it. All those months of dreaming about that lower lip that begs to be sucked, to be wrapped around my cock.”

 

Jim hands were in his hair, knotting, guiding Leo’s lips to his nipple, which Leo promptly bit and then soothed with his tongue, enjoying the sharply indrawn breath and more gravelly tone.

 

“Fucking had been teasing me with that mouth. Letting me taste it and taking it away, until it was all I could think about. My palm was practically raw from my cock fucking it, thinking of those lips.”

 

Leo groaned against his flesh, hands moving to untie the pajama bottoms and shove them down. Jim’s own hands moved from his hair, down his chest, scrapping over nipples causing Leo to moan softly. The lips Leo had been dreaming about brushed against his, moving away before he could capture them.

 

He felt the whisper of them under his jaw, a tongue flickering out at his Adam’s apple, before teeth scrapped against the curve between neck and shoulder and lips fastened over it. So caught up in Jim’s mouth, Leo didn’t notice the hand unzipping his pants until his cock sprang free into the cold air, immediately wrapped in a warm hand.

 

“Fuck, Jim!”

 

 “Hmmm,” Jim murmured, “you said that for me then too, when I unzipped those jeans that hug your ass and filled my hand with your cock. Like now. You were hard and so thick. And my ass was clenching at just the thought of you deep in me again.”

 

Desperate hands were suddenly clutching Jim’s ass, pulling him closer, moving so there was just enough space for Jim’s hand and nothing more.

 

“Lube, darlin’, I need to open you up.”

 

A soft moan sounded and suddenly Jim was ignoring injuries to turn and search for something that would work. Finally he found a small bottle of lotion in the bedside table, usually provided for diplomatic guests. Pushing it into Leo’s hand, he quickly stripped off both of their pants, licking a stripe up Leo’s cock when he was about to object to the amount of movement Jim was doing.

 

“Lights twenty-five percent.”

 

They immediately dimmed until they were mostly covered in shadows. Jim lay back and Leo watched as an odd beam of light caressed over an arm, down between his ribs, brushing over him as if the light just had to touch James Tiberius Kirk.

 

Leo moved slowly, spreading Jim’s thighs and bringing them over his lap, enjoying each scrap of hair against his thighs, loving the clench of Jim’s stomach muscles as Leo balanced Jim’s hips against his.

 

“There was less space then. I had to arch over you, wedged between the ceiling and the floorboards while you pushed my jeans down. Then you pulled me back onto your lap, spreading my thighs, moving me into position. That time you brought the lube, pulling it out of your pocket even as you blushed. It was still new, the freedom to touch me, to fuck me. Your hands were greedy, desperate, and it made me want to come all over you, showing you that you were mine and I was yours.”

 

 _God, he was fucking killing him_. Bringing up everything so perfectly, mixing memories with reality. And Leo’s hands were greedy and desperate once more, eager with the knowledge that he could touch now.

 

Jim eyes were hooded, staring up at Leo as he reached for his hands, taking control of the lotion and squeezing it over Leo’s fingers, “And I needed you to touch me. Need to feel you claim me, needed to know that this at least you would take from me. Just like I need you to touch me now. Please, baby, touch me.”

 

 _He’s beautiful_ , Leo thought now as he did then. Eyes drinking in Jim’s lips, wet from being licked, partially open, eyes more intense than a Georgian summer sky, arms now flung to the side of his head, revealing silky white skin that stretched so smoothly over muscle. Skin Leo just wanted to sink his teeth into. Bruise and mark as his.

 

Leo let his fingers of his other hand trace the journey his eyes made, smoothing over the lines of a defined chest, flat nipples puckered just a bit. Skimming over the valley of flesh created by his ribs, stretching tightly over a smooth belly, hints of muscle hiding beneath sensitive skin that rippled in response to the kiss of his fingertips.

 

Fingers tangled in coarse hair, following the trail down to Jim’s groin, cock flushed and thick, resting against his lower belly. Leo skimmed around it, moving below instead to cup testicles tight with arousal.

 

But for all its similarities in how Leo worshipped the body before him, now was different than it had been. Then he’d been frantic, they both had. Pulling off the side of the road from Atlanta, Jim’s teasing in the car driving them too far to resist. It had been light then, middle of the afternoon. Hot and muggy, air heavy with flowers and rain. They’d fucked hurriedly, greedily, slamming into and against each other until Jim was shooting onto his belly while Leo clutched that sweet ass and fucked his come deeper into Jim.

 

But he could take his time here. Could gently slide in one finger, moving and curling, waiting for that sweet whine of Jim’s breath before adding a second. He could work them in and out slowly, watching as Jim twisted, eyes screwing shut as his arms lifted further and flattened themselves against the bulkhead.

 

Leo could watch as the thighs around him trembled when a third finger was added, curling forward and gently scraping against his prostate until he was no longer capable of clear speaking. Until the only words coming from those lips were _please, Bones, more, now, and fuck me_.

 

Now it was possible for Leo to move Jim gently around, until his legs were wrapped around Leo’s hips and Leo was balancing his weight off Jim’s body, bracing it against the bed. Could force himself to enter slowly, pushing the weeping head of his cock against the dark place that promised heaven. Could just push the head in, his agony balanced by the joy of watching Jim squirm and moan, beg and cry out for him.

 

Could soothe. “Shh, darlin’, shh. That’s it, just let me in slowly, god, you’re so tight and warm, in this place just for me. You’re mine, aren’t you? Eager to take me in, eager to be filled with me, eager to be claimed by my cock. That’s it, open up like that, show me that you need to be mine, darlin’.”

 

Jim cried out, hands moving to grip the thighs beneath him, “Fuck, Bones, need you deeper. Come on, come _on_.”

 

“Tell me, darlin. Tell me what I need to hear.”

 

The words were ripped out of Leo, hands clenched around slim hips, eyes fixed on watching Jim’s ass swallow him slowly, flicking up to watch Jim bite into his lip, and hear him pant out, “Christ, Bones, I fucking need you! Please.”

 

“Yessss,” Leo hissed, shifting his hips quickly but careful not to jar Jim.

 

Then suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Thoughts of injuries disappeared. Thoughts of reclaiming something lost faded away. There was just hard flesh buried into a warm welcome, a harsh cry sounding pleasure when Leo pulled back and thrust back in, hands pulling him over Jim’s body as his hips fell into a needed rhythm.

 

 _Bones_!

 

 _Fuck, Jim, yes! Need . . . so scared . . . goddamit, Jim!_

 

Leaning down, Leo captured those lips, razing them, opening them, sending his tongue to lick out every secret place until they all belonged to him. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer and Leo could feel Jim’s cock rubbing against his belly, their chests glued together in sweat and breaths, until Leo was crouched and his slap of his hips only rocked Jim closely against the rest of his body, until Jim’s cock was being rubbed off by their bellies.

 

“God, Leo, faster. I’m gonna come, baby, gonna come all over.”

 

The words inflamed him, Leo bracing himself and fucking deeper, harder, until Jim was crying out and hot silk was pouring out between them, sealing the covenant of their bodies. And Leo lost what little control remained, burying his face against Jim’s neck, crying out into his shoulder as his body emptied itself joyously into Jim.

 

They were left wrecked, wrapped around each other, against each other. Only with each other. Naked and stripped, left open and softening.

 

Soon, Leo shifted his weight to the side and Jim murmured gratefully, letting his legs flop onto the bed, his hand searching for Leo’s as he caught his breath.

 

When they were both breathing more evenly, Jim turned and slid a leg over Leo’s hip as if to keep him place. His head went into a hand and Leo could feel him staring even though his own eyes were closed.

 

“Bones?”

 

“Hmm.”

 

A hand petted over his chest, skimming over a puckered nipple, sending sensation that was almost painful through Leo’s body, “Bones, I remember.”

 

“What?” The word was hazy as Leo didn’t recover his wits with the annoying speed Jim did.

 

“I remember. Remember the deal with Jocelyn, the six months of fucking awesome sex, then the fight. The fight I’m still not entirely sure about. And you being a drunken asshole. I remember it all.”

 

Hazel eyes fluttered opened, confused for a moment and then guarded. Jim’s features were open, but unrevealing. “Yeah?”

 

Jim nodded, chewing on his lower lip as he thought about it. “And I remember you saving my life three times in the last week. You’re fucking hot with a phaser by the way.”

 

Leo hesitated and then spoke gently, “And?”

 

“I’m not fine with how everything went down.”

 

“Me either.”

 

“But Bones?”

 

Leo couldn’t help but smile at the teasing glint in those blue eyes, only made more vivid by the shadows. “Yeah?”

 

“I don’t want to punch you anymore.”

 

A helpless smile broke out at that and Leo leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of those lips, “Me either.”

 


	13. We Raise Our Glasses

 

Nothing could have prepared Leo for the madness that ensued when the last shuttle from the Perseus docked. Inside the hanger there was Starfleet personnel everywhere and a small group clearly waiting for them.

 

He heard Jim sigh and mutter, “And the vultures descend.”

 

“Admiral Kirk, Captain Xhang, if you and the bridge crew will please come with us. Admiral Komack is expecting you.”

 

Jim’s shoulders straightened but before he could argue, Pike was striding up, “Jim.”

 

A smile broke out on Jim’s face and Leo felt a surge of relief go through him. Pike clasped Jim’s arms and seemed to be searching his face for signs of injury. “Christ, Jim, can’t you ever do anything the easy way?”

 

Jim just grinned, “Hey, no one kidnapped me, I wasn’t tortured, and the ship didn’t break down. I call that a win.”

 

A rueful smile crossed Pike’s face, “You got the Romulan Star and Klingon Empires to sign a peace treaty with the Federation. Yeah, I’d call that a win. Come on, the admiralty has been assembled. They all want to watch the debriefing.”

 

There was a hint of the inevitable leer, “I just bet they do.” And before Pike could scowl, Jim questioned, “Mom?”

 

“Is clearing up some things.”

 

“Admiral Pike, I really must object. Admiral Komack was quite clear that he wished to debrief the crew initially.”

 

Pike shot the younger man a hard look, “Federation President M’Anaya is awaiting a report from Admiral Nogura, who is assembled with the other Admirals at SCC. Do you want to be responsible for Madame President being left uniformed at this crucial time?

 

Komack’s flunkie shook his head and Leo breathed out a sigh of relief. It was best to keep Jim out of Komack’s clutches for now.  Pike turned to Leo, “How long can we keep him, Doctor?”

 

Surprised, but unwilling to show it, Leo responded quickly, “No more than four hours, which I know you won’t keep to. So absolutely no more than six and then he _has_ to sleep.”

 

“Bones-”

 

“It’s that or you pass out in front of that damn board, bleeding from your nose, ears, and mouth. Take your pick.”

 

Pike’s mouth twitched, “I’ll send him to Starfleet Medical. He’ll need to be checked out. Leo, we’ve arranged for you to be housed in officer’s quarters for the next couple of days and Ensign York here will take you over and get you set up. You’ll need to be debriefed as well. Quiet, Jim.

 

“Also, Dr. Hashid has asked that you stop by the Medical center to go over Jim’s chart. He seemed intrigued by some of your grafting methods in the first surgery.”

 

Leo snorted at that. As if it had been planned. At one point he’d been performing nerve grafts with nothing more than a wish holding them together. The rest of the crew moved forward a bit, leaving Leo and Jim separated from them. Jim gave him a concerned look, “You gonna be okay on your own?”

 

“I’m a grown man, Jim.”

 

There was a look of concern on that face, “There’s gonna be a lot of media. And they always manage to circumvent campus security and lurk outside of the officer’s quarters.”

 

Leo shrugged, “I’m sure they’re more interested in you all than me.”

 

“No _y’all_ , Bones?” Jim teased softly.

 

He huffed a breath, rolling his eyes, and feeling more settled than he had in the last few hours. Since getting his memory back, Jim had been . . . odd around Leo. Different. And it was throwing Leo off.

 

He’d assumed things between he and Jim would go mostly back to normal for the time being, anticipating the inevitable awkwardness once they got back to Madison. But he was realizing just how open they’d left things. Nothing had been decided, nothing between them had really changed.

 

Sure, they weren’t as angry as before. But they were both hurt. And Leo was still getting divorced. And Jocelyn wouldn’t tell him a damn thing until she could talk to Jim. And Leo just wanted to sleep for the next three days and hopefully everything annoying would have gone away by then.

 

Jim’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “Just, stick close until we get through the hoard. Then Pike’s guy will take you to the room and I’ll find you afterwards. Kay?”

Leo just nodded and didn’t notice the twitching motion of Jim’s hand. They rejoined the rest of the crew and began walking, the crew silently forming themselves around Jim, placing him in the middle.

 

Once the hangar doors opened, Leo discovered why. _A lot of media_ didn’t even begin to cover it. They were everywhere. And between the flashes and the glint of sunlight reflecting off the cameras, Leo was damn near rendered blind.

 

It was chaos. Lights, people shout, shoving, screaming, “KIRK! CAPTAIN KIRK! ADMIRAL KIRK! CAPTAIN SULU! UHURA! HAVE YOU-! WHERE IS SP- WHEN DID YOU KN- IS IT TRUE THAT YO-” in a never ending stream that began to pound against Leo’s head. He could only imagine how it bothered Jim.

 

A hard shove pushed against him and suddenly Jim’s hand was there, pulling him protectively into the circle, letting Uhura’s sharp elbow and blinding smile protect him from the vultures. It was only maybe a minute, even if it felt like an hour, but they managed to break through the main gaggle and the sound of shouting transformed to deafening cheers. Leo nearly stopped in his tracks, only Uhura pushing him forward kept him going. She leaned in, “I’ve actually really grown to like this part, once we get past the media.”

 

“It’s . . . loud.”

 

She only smiled, “We became symbols after the Narada. It comes with responsibility.”

 

“To save the world.”

 

The smile became a grin, “Only every year or so. If we’re lucky. But I mean making ourselves public figures. Waving, smiling, greeting, occasionally giving interviews. People want to hear from us. Jim bears most of it, of course. But, this part . . . this part isn’t so bad.”

 

And before he could respond, she was grabbing Scotty’s hand and pulling him towards a diminutive older woman who had Uhura’s eyes. Scotty broke away from Uhura, running toward the woman, shouting something and picking her up, whirling her around and laughing as she scolded him. Yeah, he could see why that part wouldn’t be so bad.

 

It was like a signal and suddenly other families were rushing forward, being embraced, until it was just Leo and Jim standing together. Jim was watching his crew with a smile and he turned to Leo, “This is the part that makes the letters I’ll have to write bearable.”

 

“Letters?”

 

“Informing the families of the men and women who died. They’ll have been contacted directly by Starfleet, but it’s customary for the captain of a ship to write them directly.”

 

Jim’s eyes hadn’t left Captain Xhang, who was holding a tiny toddler in his arms while his wife wept into his shoulder in relief. Leo watched the sweet scene for a moment before asking, “How many letters have you written?”

 

“Too many.”

 

He placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder, “Maybe you shouldn’t think about that right now.”

 

Jim turned to him, eyes intense, “Now is when I like to. Because their sacrifice made this possible. No victory comes without a cost, Bones. No peace without its payment in blood.

 

“For every ten families reunited, there is one torn apart forever. And we can’t forget that. Especially today. Because we wouldn’t have today without them.”

 

They stood there for a couple of more moments, not even noticing that Pike had returned until a sweet cry of “Leonard!” pierced the air.

 

Suddenly Leo was enveloped in small arms, the scent of magnolias sweeping into nose. His mother. Her hands were running over him as if to check for injuries and she pulled back, eyes swimming with relieved tears, “Oh God, Leo! When Christopher told me that you had gone on one of those ships, I nearly passed out. But you’re okay, right? You’re okay?”

 

He wasn’t given the chance to answer before her hand was reaching out and yanking Jim closer, beginning to give him the scolding of a lifetime, “And you, young man! What were you thinking?! Rushing into a battle and nearly getting yourself killed? Gallivanting all over the place with your brains all scrambled, just out of surgery? Did you even _listen_ to Leo? Are you trying to make an old woman mad with worry? And not a peep out of you did I hear! I had to harass Leonard and Christopher for updates! What, you go into space and forget how to use a comm system?!”

 

She was holding on Jim’s face, showing some signs of delayed bruising.  Jim gave her a half smile, “I’m sorry?”

 

Eleanora’s were stilled filled with tears and she just wrapped her arms around him and gave him a fierce hug, “You don’t do that to me again, you hear? You need to be more careful with yourself. Especially since other people aren’t.” And here she shot a less than pleased look at Pike.

 

Leo watched in amazement as the tough general adverted his gaze and coughed and Jim laughed. Brushing a kiss on her cheek, Jim tucked her under his arm, “Yes, ma’am. You wanna come yell at the admiralty for me?”

 

Pike stepped forward, “She’s already started on that. But Jim, we should get going.”

 

Jim nodded and hugged Eleanora once more. He gave her his most charming smile, “Ms McCoy, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tonight?”

 

Eleanora just laughed, “You! You are gonna spend the evening letting Leo fuss over you. Now, go, tell the admirals how wonderful you are.”

 

Blue eyes were twinkling at that, “I think I can do that.”

 

An ensign stepped forward, “Dr. McCoy, if you’ll follow me.”

 

“Mama, you comin?”

 

Eleanora sent Leo a serene smile, “No, honey, my things are at Christopher’s home.”

 

 _Christopher’s home_? Both Leo and Jim turned to look at Pike, who was only giving a slight smile back. After a long quiet moment, Leo arched a brow, “Admiral, why don’t you stop by the Medical center later and come find me.”

 

Pike nodded, humor twinkling in his blue eyes, and then nudged Jim, “Come on, wonderboy, let’s go.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

“Are you asserting that you were not in violation of orders when you detoured to the Vulcan colony, Admiral Kirk?”

 

“I was not ordered _not_ to aid the colony, Admiral Nogura.”

 

“And if you have been?” Komack.

 

Jim barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Yeah, cause he would fall into that trap. As if he hadn’t been doing this for over ten years. “I was not aware you were interested in what _could_ have occurred. There _could_ have been another singularity and another madman _could_ have come to destroy Earth again. The attack on Vokau _could_ have been perpetrated by the Ferengi, suddenly switching interest to conquering from pillaging. Tribbles _could_ have overrun the Perseus and-”

 

“That’s enough, Kirk,” Nogura spoke, a little amusement in her voice. “Perhaps we could get back to what _did_ happen?”

 

“Of course, Admiral.”

 

“Regardless of whether you directly violated orders, and we shall ignore the fact that you failed to report the intent of the Perseus to render aid to Vokau for the moment, you were ordered to secure contact with Captain Kor of the Klingon Empire, in order to secure an alliance, to either ensure we did not go to war or that we gained a valuable ally to fighting that war. Stopping at Vokau, however commendable, placed that mission in jeopardy.” Nogura was firm here.

 

“On the contrary, Admiral, I believe the stop at Vokau actually enabled the success of our mission.”

 

“Please explain,” Rear Admiral Brackett spoke.

 

“Not only would the refusal to aid a valued member of the Federation not impress the Klingon Empire, it would be seen as a cowardly attempt to avoid engaging the enemy in battle, which would have undercut our already precarious position.

 

“Beyond that, it was clear that the Romulans were on Vokau to either obtain control of the VSA in search of the formula for red matter, or to obtain Mr. Spock, who is the only known being to have the formula. Had they been successful, what _could_ have happened would have been catastrophic. I believe it was in keeping with my mission to either prevent war or ensure victory when I ordered the Perseus to engage the Romulan invaders at Vokau. Romulus could not be given access to a formula that has already wrecked so much in our universe and led us to the brink of war.”

 

Silence reigned and there were a couple of approving glances before Komack leaned forward. Jim nearly sighed. “Are you trying to convince us that your decision to reroute to Vokau was not motivated by personal interest, Kirk?”

 

“I believe peace to be in the personal interest of us all, Admiral.” Jim nearly smirked at that piece of bullshit. It was true of course, but really he just liked making that vein pop out in Komack’s head.

 

“It is well known, Admiral, that you were paid by the Vulcan Council of Elders to develop their planetary defenses, in spite of Starfleet objections.”

 

“I was not an active member of Starfleet at the time and therefore no objection can be made to my assistance of Vokau. Also, Admiral, if you were to ask the Council, you will find that I refused payment and asked that the credits earmarked for my fee be donated to the educational system on Vokau.” A move the Council had found most logical. It had been the only time he had received the unanimous approval from the entire Council. Not one frowning eyebrow among the elders.

 

Komack scowled and then went for the weakest point, “Regardless of all that, Admiral Kirk, even if you followed your orders in meeting with the Klingons, and I am not convinced that you did, your stop at Vokau does not explain the presence of a _Romulan_ senator at Organia. Unless you contacted the senator and _revealed_ the location of the peace talks, which is an act of treason.”

 

“There is no record of my contacting anyone in the Romulan Empire.”

 

“Your proficiency at hacking into computer systems has been well known since your days at the Academy, Kirk.”

 

Komack was almost smug now and Jim’s fingers clenched under the table. “There is no record because there was never any record to exist. I had never even heard of Senator Pardek prior to this mission.”

 

“Then how did the Romulans know when and where to appear? The only answer is that you intentionally sabotaged the mission.”

 

Jim’s brows raised, “I initially sabotaged the mission and yet I completed the mission? In fact, I completed it _beyond_ my orders and not only stopped imminent war, but ensured formal treaty talks would incur in three months?”

 

“The end does not justify the means. You clearly broke Starfleet regulations and revealed classified information to an enemy nation, resulting in the near failure of your mission. It was only through Organian action that you and your crew survived and the peace talks took place.”

 

“If they had not come to talk, Senator Pardek would not have been onboard. He had never been a part of their military command structure and therefore had no other purpose on board than to engage in peace talks.”

 

“That is regardless of the issue.”

 

Jim felt everything in him tighten. “The Vulcan Elder Selek has stated for the record that it was he who contacted Senator Pardek.”

 

“And yet how did he know if not for you?”

 

“So to be clear, the charge of treason is not that I commenced with peace talks with the Romulan senator but that I revealed classified information that led him there?”

 

Komack nodded, openly smug now. “Yes, Admiral.”

 

And here Jim felt a rush of satisfaction. He folded his hands, but not before hitting send on his private PADD resting in front of him. Low chimes sounded on the PADDs of the seven admirals before him. “Then, Admirals, may I ask that you look at the documents in your inbox.”

 

“What is the meaning of this, Kirk?” Komack growled.

 

Jim’s smirk came to the forefront, “I believe the documents are self explanatory, Admiral.”

 

And they were. Each admiral was staring at dozens of documents. Except Pike, who had not only seen them all, but helped chase some of them down. Nogura was the first to speak, “Kirk, what is this?”

 

Jim leaned forward, not moving his eyes from Komack, “These are documents retrieved from an unregistered PADD found in the office of Admiral Komack.”

 

The highest-ranking admiral stood to his feet, eyes wide, fists clenched, “KIRK!”

 

Before he could move, two Security commanders were at his side, forcing his stillness. Kirk continued, as if there were no interruption, but not moving his eyes from Komack’s, “The documents are unsigned but analysis has determined them written by Admiral Komack. They were heavily encrypted, using an encryption key known only to the Orion Syndicate.”

 

Barely a breath sounded in the hall but all eyes were on Komack. “All transmissions to and from Romulus are strictly monitored, but it is much more difficult to monitor transmissions to the Syndicate due to the Syndicate’s presence on non-Orion worlds and their many dummy corporations. These documents were all routed to a pawnshop on Antares, which the Antarian local police force recently flagged as a possible rendezvous point for Orion slavers.

 

“There are no documents predating the last eight weeks, but several the refer to previous transactions prior that time, indication that the encryption key is changed at least that often. Commander Gaila Orcian decrypted the key, which allowed us access to the information. The first document is a transmission from Admiral Komack’s office to the pawnshop on Antares, detailing Federation and Klingon plans to meet on Organia, including date and time. The second document is a payment record from the pawnshop into a private bank account in the neutral state of Switzerland. The transaction was authorized fifty-three seconds after the arrival of the classified information. The private account was accessed exactly one minute afterwards and the money moved an off-world account, which we have yet to be able to trace. However, the point of access into the account originates from Admiral Komack’s office.”

 

The admirals kept switching between their PADD’s and Komack, disbelief and shock written on their face. Predictably, it was Nogura who recovered first. She stared at Kirk, “How did you even get this information, Admiral? Clearly he wasn’t using Starfleet resources in these communications or we would have caught it.”

 

And here was the part where he fudged and obfuscated. He couldn’t tell them the information came from the Romulan senator. One, it would surely be brought up in the peace talks which would not be good for the senator. Romulus was willing to have peace, but only if they couldn’t have victory. And they would not be pleased with Pardek giving Jim information. Two, Jim didn’t want to bring their attention back to the fact that he must have had prior contact with Pardek if the Romulan was willing to trust Jim to that extent. Contact prior to even the attack on Vokau.

 

“Commander Orcian received a tip from a high-level source.” Which was true. Jim was a high level source. “This allowed her to have a point from which to look. While Admiral Komack did not use the Starfleet service, he did use his office. Which would have worked if not for the Starfleet Academy wireless network that covers the entire grounds of Starfleet Central Command as well as the Academy. The protection on the wireless network is such that it monitors _all_ transmissions, incoming or outgoing, on _any_ network. So even though the information was not sent through our server, its transmission left a trail through the network. Most private networks are registered so there were only a handful of unregistered PADD’s underneath the cover of the Academy wireless network. Commander Orcian was diligent in isolating the transmission and once she saw the Orion encryption key, she was able to backtrack and find all communications using that encryption key.”

 

Nogura, whose eyes were glinting at this point, turned to the security officers, “Please escort Admiral Komack to our level four diplomatic quarters.”

 

Level four diplomatic quarters was code for prisoner cell of high profile ‘guests’. They were also information dead zones. Nothing worked in them. Personal PADDs, communicators, tracking devices, even radio signals couldn’t make it out of the dead zone the building sat on. Not only was Kormac in custody, he wouldn’t be able to inform his Orion contacts that he’d been made. They would be able to intercept the next transmission and hopefully find out more about his dealings with them.

 

“Admirals,” Jim spoke softly, knowing their emotions were running quite high right now, “once you have a chance to fully review the documents in question, I think you will find that while unforgivable acts of treason have been committed, nothing in those documents reveals any information about Earth or Federation defenses, battle plans, or tactics. In fact, all information seems to be geared to ramping up the war.

 

“It has long been suspected that Orion’s only interest in the war is monetary - the increased access to worlds for slaving. These documents support that suspicion. And it also seems that while Admiral Komack was very careful about what he revealed, his Orion contact was not as careful. There are several allusions to a weapon Romulus was attempting to create, which may have led to the advanced deterioration of their star, as well some previously unconfirmed information about Orion slaving on Federation planets.

 

“It is clear to me that Admiral Komack was only seeking to ensure that war with Romulus occurred. He has long been known to be an opponent to any cordial relations between the Federation and the Romulan Empire. If you’ll look at the time Komack set on the transmission for the alliance talks, you’ll notice it is several hours later than what was actually set. I believe that he did want the alliance to proceed as plan, as it would most likely result in a favorable result for the Federation. I believe xenophobic feelings towards Romulans are what motivated Admiral Komack to commit these acts, rather than any interest in seeing the Federation or Earth harmed.”

 

Speaking up for Komack nearly made Jim’s stomach turn. Whatever his motivations, thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands, of lives would have been lost in the war. Closer to millions when considering the effect of unchecked Orion slaving once the war began. But he would be as close to honest as possible. And the last thing he needed was someone accusing him of a bias. The trial of Komack would be a circus, one Jim had no intention of getting caught in.

 

The admirals were speaking quietly amongst themselves and it was Pike who spoke next, “Admiral Kirk, you are dismissed for now while we review this new information. But on behalf of the admiralty, I would like to thank you for the extraordinary work you have done, at great personal risk I might add. Your recommendations for commendations of your crew will be honored. And I suspect you will be receiving one or two yourself. Starfleet thanks you, Admiral. As always. Dismissed.”

 

Jim just shot Pike a grin and a salute with two fingers, before standing and moving away, ignoring the ache in his legs. He’d been sitting for five hours.

 

The sun had set by the time he came out and Command was deserted. Most people were still off from the holidays. Jim stopped suddenly. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he had missed Christmas and New Years sometime in the fog of the last week and a half. His birthday was in a couple of days. Jim groaned. They would expect him to stay for the memorial. _Shit._

 

***

 

He’d nearly gotten to his assigned quarters when he remembered that he was supposed to go to Starfleet Medical to get checked. Eh. He would do it tomorrow.

 

Jim went to the service entrance, punched in a code, and began making his way up the back stairs to the officer’s apartment he sometimes used instead of his place. Usually only when he was too tired to make it down to the bay.

 

Opening the door, he walked in to see Leo passed out on the couch. A tired smile touched his mouth. His last minute fiddling with room assignments worked out well.

 

Leo was on his back, one arm behind his head and the other on his bare stomach. A blanket was thrown over him but large, elegantly masculine feet poked out, and Jim wondered if he was cold. Moonlight gleamed in through an inactivated shade revealed Bones’ features. He looked surprisingly grumpy in sleep—like even in his dreams he was worrying about something.

 

Not having had many opportunities to observe him while asleep (tending to fall asleep first), Jim stripped off his uniform, leaving him in his jockey shorts, and moving quickly across the room, climbing over Bones to wedge himself between the couch and Bones’ body.

 

Luckily, while he was apparently a cranky sleeper, he was also a heavy sleeper. At least when it wasn’t his comm unit going off. Jim had seen him leap out of sleep at the sound of his comm, running for pants before his eyes were fully awake. So Jim moved and nudged until he was under the blanket with Bones, head pillowed on his shoulder.

 

Once settled, Jim felt the tension of the day drain out of him. A minute later, wrapped around Leo, Jim was asleep.

 

 

***

 

He woke a few hours later at the feel of fingertips tracing through his hair, gently brushing over roots and sending delicious shivers over his body. “Hmmm.”

 

Those fingers began massaging gently and Jim’s toes curled. He shifted slightly so Bones’ fingers had better access and so that he could begin to nuzzle the firm chest beneath him.

 

Their legs were tangled together and both were content to simply lie there silently, enjoying the languid feel to early morning. Jim lazily brushed his hands through the dark hair there, petting and just enjoying the sheer _feel_ of Bones.

 

Bones’ fingers slid down to the nape of his neck then traced small patterns over his shoulders. Jim gave a small murmur, sliding his thigh over Bones’ hip and feeling something hard and thick growing there. _Ah_.

 

Burying his smile in Bones’ neck, Jim let his fingers slide to his stomach, gliding over sensitive skin and enjoying each little whimper and involuntary twitch. Enjoying the way Bones tensed when he found the happy trail, gliding through the coarse, thick hairs, and following them until his fingers were buried underneath pants.

 

“Jim,” was whispered into the air and Jim rewarded him with his mouth sucking in a pointed nipple.

 

It always embarrassed Bones, how sensitive his nipples were. The first time Jim had almost made him come just from sucking them, he’d avoided Jim’s gaze until Jim actually did make him come. And he was so sensitive about it, that Jim didn’t always indulge himself. But now he couldn’t resist.

 

When long fingers found their way underneath the band of his shorts and onto the curve of his ass, Jim twisted and struck, licking one firm nipple while he unbuttoned the pants.

 

He felt the first shudder run through Bones, enjoyed the suddenly tight grip on his ass. The first gentle press of his teeth had Bones arching, bucking into the hand cupped over his crotch. A deep suck against the sensitive nub resulted in a whimpering moan and a squirm.

 

Smiling and pressing a kiss to Bones’ neck, Jim took pity, selfish pity, and unzipped Bones’ zipper, gently tugging his pants and shorts down the top of his thighs, filling his hand with the long, hot length of him.

 

He loved the noises Bones was making underneath him. Loved the twists and writhes, the arches and hands that could only clench, the moans ripped out of his throat by Jim’s hands and mouth. Loved it when Bones flung his arm over his eyes and begged, “Please, Jim! Please!”

 

Before Bones could react, Jim had swung himself over Bones, kneeling on the floor beside the couch. “Jim-”

 

He didn’t give him the chance to say anything. He simply pushed one thigh to rest over the couch, catching that hazel gaze, smiling and then lowering his mouth, keeping eye contact with Bones.

 

Jim licked a long, hot stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing the throbbing vein, watching as Bones’ eyes fluttered before he forced them open, watching. Watching as Jim circled the head of his cock, allowing spit to trail down from the tip of his tongue onto the weeping head, mixing come and spit, enjoying the shudder that worked over Bones when it trailed down and Jim blew warm breath over it.

 

Slowly he closed his lips over the head, letting Bones see himself pillowed between Jim’s lush lips, letting him rest in the warmth of Jim’s breath for a heartbeat, then two, before Jim, without warning, simply angled his head and slid all the way down.

 

Hands clenched on his head when Jim felt his throat opened by the tip, not even pausing before simply pushing past that point and swallowing deep. “Fuck! Oh Christ, darlin’! Darlin’, please!”

 

Blue eyes vivid even in the darkness watched as Bones’ head fell back for just a moment, before he forced it back up, once again locking his eyes to where Jim’s mouth was wrapped around him.

 

Jim’s mouth was over-producing moisture to try and accommodate the foreign object lodged in his throat, making his mouth a swamp of heat and wet, and there was only a warning twinkle in those wicked eyes before Jim forced himself to swallow around the head, working Bones’ most sensitive skin with the tightening muscles on his trachea, hollowing his cheeks at the same time.

 

 

A wild moan ripped out of Leo’s throat, his eyes slamming shut and his hips jerked up, thrusting even deeper and making his eyes open when Jim just took it with a gurgle.

 

“God, darlin’,” Leo whispered, as Jim’s hands encouraged his movement by wedging under his hips, urging him up, clearly asking Leo to fuck his mouth.

 

Leo froze in surprise, gaze flicking from Jim’s mouth to his eyes, and it only took Jim pulling off once, before sliding back down with a wet slurp, before Leo took control. One of those large hands came to cradle his jaw, softly stroking his cheek, before giving a first tentative thrust, moaning when Jim’s eyes shut in pleasure.

 

Control slipped away at that point. His hips, his cock, took over the rhythm at that point and he couldn’t decide where to look. Jim’s beautiful lips, wet and swollen, with moisture escaping the sides as he gave Leo the warmest, wettest, slickest fuck of his life, or his eyes, which were staring at Leo with something . . . alive in them.

 

Soon it didn’t matter, because he couldn’t keep his head up any longer. Jim’s mouth was so tight and firm, even while his throat was pliant and open. And it was so wet. The wettest blowjob of his life and the sounds of slurps, gurgles, soft chokes were enough to overload Leo’s ocular senses.

 

All he could do was thrust, run his cock over that soft tongue, rub the head into ridged throat muscles, move faster and faster until everything was a blur of slick warmth.

 

“Jim, god, Jim. Baby, please. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 

Clever fingers came up Leo’s chest and pinched a nipple on the third _fuck_.

 

“AGHHHH!” Leo bellowed, holding Jim’s mouth tight to him as he shot streams of come deep into Jim’s throat, shuddering and jerking with each swallow, moaning and gasping when his tongue wriggled out to lick at the escaping moisture at the base of Bones’ dick.

 

When his hips collapsed exhaustedly back onto the couch, Jim only began moving his head gently, not sucking as much but letting Leo’s gradually softening cock glide through a warm mixture of spit and semen until finally Leo fell from those lips with a sigh and Jim swallowed greedily, licking his lips and cleaning up his cheeks with his fingers, sucking greedily at them.

 

Leo forced his eyes to open and saw Jim, still staring at him, kneeling with his jockey shorts bulging, a hand shoved under the fabric and wrapped around his cock, still moving.

 

“Come up here, darlin’. Let me take care of you.”

 

Jim scrambled up with a half smile, but those still too intense eyes that seemed to be broadcasting something Leonard should recognize. But before he could think about it too clearly, Jim had pushed down his shorts and straddled his chest, cock flush and a deep pink, waving excitedly.

 

Leo felt his own lips water and he wrapped his hands around Jim’s hips, pulling him closer, parting his lips. Jim resisted, “Bones, I’m not gonna last long as it is. I can’t . . . I can’t handle your mouth on me right now.”

 

He nodded distractedly, gaze still on the cock reaching for him, lifting a hand and covering that hot flush, giving a sigh that echoed Jim’s moan when he tightened his fist around him. The first firm pull had Jim leaning over him, bracing his hands on the arm of the couch, gasping, “Bones!”

 

The second had Jim’s hips jerking. By the third Jim was thrusting in time, the head coming tauntingly closer to Leo’s lips. Mesmerized, Leo scooted himself down, so that every thrust had Jim’s cockhead burying into his lips, lips that were slowly parting so that each jerk of fist and cock had him sliding against an extending tongue.

 

“Fuck, oh fuck, baby, yes! Oh, I . . . ungh, ah! I’m . . . I’m gonna, aghhh!”

 

The first spurt splashed across Leo’s cheek before he could wrap his lips around the end, sucking deeply and groaning when Jim thrust helplessly, shaking above him as he came. Leo let him ride it out, sucking and tonguing gently until Jim shimmied back, collapsing mostly on Leo but shifting slightly to the side.

 

Leo twitched when he felt Jim’s warm breath against his cheek and then a hot tongue licking at the come still there. “You look so hot, like this.”

 

Eyes rolled and Leo smacked a firm cheek, a small laugh escaping him when Jim just continued to lick while murmuring, “Kinky.”

 

When he was done, he gave Leo a sloppy kiss, mixing both of their tastes until they were out of breath once more. Jim settled once more, yawning and stretching before just flopping all his limbs across Leo. Amusement raced through Leo at that. He stroked a hand down a muscled back, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fucked out.” Jim murmured, snuggling deeper and pulling at the blanket that had been shoved against the back of the couch.

 

Leo helped him spread it over them, tucking it around Jim before elaborating, “I mean your head.”

 

A heavy sigh, “ ’m fine, Bones.”

 

“Did you go to the medical center last night?”

 

Jim stayed quiet and took deep, even breaths. Leo rolled his eyes, “I don’t actually believe that you feel asleep in a second. Jim. Jim!”

 

“ _Shleepy_ , Bones.” Jim slurred.

 

Leo sighed and nudged Jim’s chin up, “You’re going today.”

 

A pout formed immediately, belying exhaustion, “Boooooones!”

 

“No whining. You’re going. I don’t want Pike harping on me because you haven’t been cleared.”

 

Jim poked his lip out a little further, drenching his eyes with pleas, and Leo gave another huff. “I’ll go with you. I have to speak to Dr. Hashid anyway.”

 

A beaming smile was his reward and Leo only shook his head. “Come on, get another couple of hours of sleep. I’ll wake you in time.”

 

“I have another debriefing at 1300.”

 

“I know. Sleep.”

 

As he did as he was told, for once, Leo hugged him close and absorbed the feel of Jim, sleeping contentedly against him.

 

***

 

Dr. Hashid looked over Jim’s chart again, “It really is amazing that you are in such good health, Admiral Kirk. By all accounts, you never should have survived the first surgery.”

 

Jim’s brows rose before shrugged, “I had a great doctor.”

 

Dr. Hashid studied Leo, who was perched against the wall watching with eagle eyes, “I’d say that was an understatement. Dr. McCoy, you detail grafting methods here that have never been used before. Methods that surpassed the ones you pioneered on Admiral Pike’s case.”

 

“Necessity is the mother of invention. I was just trying to make sure Jim would wake up.”

 

Dr. Hashid nodded, “Well, wake he did. Looks like we owe the safety of the universe to you, Dr. McCoy. I’m not sure another surgeon would have been able to save the Admiral’s life. It’s a shame we never got you in Starfleet.”

 

Jim beamed and Leo muttered something about it not being necessary as he apparently was free to be press-ganged anyway. Jim just laughed and hopped off the bio-bed, “I’m all clear, Doc?”

 

Hashid murmured and nodded, making a last note on Jim’s chart before closing, “Surprisingly healthy, Admiral. You’ll need to come in for some further nerve regeneration. I would say once a month for the next six months just to make sure. Or, I’m sure Dr. McCoy could handle it for you at Atlanta General if you wish.

 

“Otherwise, Admiral, I’ll submit this to the Admiralty and you can be on your way. Dr. McCoy, a pleasure. A real pleasure. And if you ever move to San Francisco, let me know. We would love to have you as a consulting neuro-surgeon on staff.”

 

The chief of surgery left and Jim grinned, reaching for his uniform shirt, “This is what I love about Starfleet Medical. Admirals are annoyances who find ways to hurt themselves and it’s you who’s the hero of the Federation.”

 

Leo rolled his eyes but moved toward Jim, who pulled him close and pressed a kiss against his mouth. Leo sank into it for a moment before pulling away, flushing, “Public.”

 

“We’re in a private room.”

 

“Anyone could walk in.”

 

Both brows were raised, “We’ve been fucking for six months, Bones. My family knows, your family knows, who gives a fuck if the nurse knows?”

 

There was something unpleasant in that tone and Leo shrugged warily, “There’s a lot of press around who would pay to know that the great womanizing hero of the Federation is fucking a guy. I just don’t want to be known as the guy who turned you gay, and be splashed across the newsstands and holovids.”

 

Jim’s leaned back, blue eyes level, “First of all, don’t flatter yourself. You’re hardly the first guy I’ve fucked and it wouldn’t be a surprise to the press to find that out. In fact, it wouldn’t even make the news. Secondly, even if they did print it, what would it matter?”

 

“I just like to keep my private life private. I don’t think that’s unreasonable.”

 

“Private or secret, Bones?”

 

“Jim-”

 

Jim just shook his head, “I don’t have time right now, Bones. I gotta get to another debriefing. Look, I put my address and security code into your PADD this morning. Do you think you can swing by and check on the dogs? Pike dropped them off this morning.”

 

Leo reached out and caught Jim’s shoulder, which he shrugged off. He shot him an even smile, “I’ll comm you when they release me. Maybe we can grab dinner.”

 

And he was gone before Leo could find the words he desperately needed to find. _Christ_.

 

***

 

Eight hours later, Jim came out of a conference room to find Spock sitting in the hallway, working away at something on a PADD. A tired smile tugged at Jim’s mouth at the sight of his favorite Vulcan, sitting there in his robes, perfect posture even after being put through the same ringer Jim went through today, his head cocked in interest at whatever was on his PADD.

 

He looked up at Jim’s approach and lifted a brow, “Have you concluded your talks with the admiralty?”

 

His mouth quirked, “For now.  I’m sure they’ll be calling me periodically over the next couple of weeks, more as Komack’s trial comes closer. I’ve got continents of paperwork and no extraordinarily efficient first officer to take care most of it for me.”

 

Spock concluded whatever was on his PADD and stood, beginning to walk with Jim, “Cannot Captain Xhang take care of the paperwork that pertains to the aerial battle? As you were not present.”

 

Jim grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, “This is what I miss about you, Spock.”

 

His eyebrow seemed amused but he simply continued, “I have heard that they are considering your mother for a promotion to the Admiralty.”

 

A laugh at that, “They’re trying to convince her to take it, but Mom doesn’t seem too thrilled. It’d ground her and she’s not crazy about that. And it’s hard to buck the system when you are the system.”

“If anyone could do it, it would be she. Or perhaps you. I do not believe the admirals have adequately considered the disruption two Kirks among them could cause.”

 

“Well, they’re feeling particularly kindly to us Kirks right now. You know, after saving the universe. Again.”

 

Spock shared in Jim’s amusement for a moment, “I have been informed by Nyota that there will be a dinner for you tomorrow evening.”

 

Jim’s brows lowered, “Another birthday surprise attempted? Do they know you’re my source?”

 

“I am confident they do not.”

 

“So, Uhura just assumes you aren’t going to tell me?”

 

“I believe she feels that the word surprise would prevent me from informing you.”

 

“But I hate surprises that have to do with my birthday. You know, the first one being more than enough to last me a lifetime.”

 

“Indeed.” Spock agreed smoothly, just a hint of warmth in his voice. Practically a laugh. They walked companionably in the cool San Francisco air for a few minutes before Jim asked, “And T’Pring? Has she recovered fully from her injuries?”

 

Spock nodded, pleased, “Indeed, she is in optimum health. We will be returning to Vokau shortly to undertake rebuilding efforts.”

 

“How long will that take?”

 

“The Federation has offered their assistance which the Council has accepted. The damage inflicted should be repaired within six point two weeks, at which point our own building projects will recommence.”

 

“And the VSA? Any damage there?”

 

“Indeed not. You’re defense system worked quite well. The Council has found your work to be most satisfactory.”

 

Jim grinned. That was almost overwhelming praise. His mouth turned down a bit, “I wish there had been enough time to complete the project before the invasion. We could have reduced the damage and casualties.”

 

“It is illogical to wish for what could not have occurred. There is no fault for you to shoulder in the attack on Vokau. We were far more prepared than we would have been prior to your recommendations and the loss of life was greatly minimized. It is only those who killed that bear any responsibility.

 

“Is Vokau going to be sending the prisoners back?”

 

“We have offered amnesty to those who wish it. Two have accepted, a bonded pair.”

 

Jim’s brows rose, “Really?”

 

“The remaining prisoners will likely be killed once they are returned to the Empire. We wished to offer them an alternative to that fate.”

 

“I’m just surprised. Won’t it be difficult for the other Vulcans to accept them?”

 

Spock, who had faced his own issues with acceptance from his fellow Vulcans merely lifted a brow, “Necessity has forced a change in the perception of what is Vulcan. They will not be the only Romulans present. They are genuinely remorseful for their actions and have agreed to follow the Vulcan way and raise their offspring as Vulcan. They are skilled individuals whose talents will be most welcome. However, most valuable will be their genetic differentiation, which is still a significant concern for future generations.”

 

Jim nodded and paused at a table on the quad, perching on the edge. Spock waited for a moment before speaking, “Something is troubling you, Jim.”

 

He shouldn’t be surprised that Spock was adept as always at reading Jim, even without the touch telepathy. When Jim didn’t speak, Spock folded his hands behind his back, “As most issues arising from your latest mission have been resolved, I can only conclude that the cause is Dr. McCoy.”

 

Jim shrugged uncomfortably. He and Spock didn’t do this. The _talk about your love life_ thing. “I don’t know if things are going to work out.”

 

Spock’s brows lifted. “Has Dr. McCoy indicated that he wishes to terminate your arrangement?”

 

“Not in so many words.”

 

A pause. “I am afraid I am unversed in the unclear communication found in Terran romantic relationships. What words precisely did he use?”

 

Jim sighed. “It’s more what he didn’t say.”

 

“I was unaware Dr. McCoy had telepathic abilities.”

 

“I just mean . . . he doesn’t seem enthusiastic about . . . us, I guess. Whatever.”

 

“Jim,” Spock’s voice was firm, “I gather you still have not spoken to Dr. McCoy about his impending divorce and the disagreement you two had before departing on your mission.”

 

“Um . . .”

 

An actual sigh. Wow, Spock must be near strangling him again if he’d made actual noise. “Jim, I do not understand your actions. You wish to be in a relationship with Dr. McCoy. Correct?”

 

Jim nodded.

 

“And you wish that relationship to be committed and long term?”

 

Another nod.

 

“And you are in love with Dr. McCoy, correct?”

 

A long pause before Jim shrugged and nodded.

 

“Yet you have not revealed this information to Dr. McCoy?”

 

“He said he didn’t want to be with me,” Jim burst out, angrily, a part of him still undeniably hurt. “He said he wanted Jocelyn back and that I wasn’t what he needed.”

 

Spock features softened almost imperceptibly, “Jim, if you have taught me anything about humanity, it is that they often say what they do not mean when emotionally injured. Have you discussed this with Dr. McCoy?”

 

When Jim only remained silent, Spock frowned. “Jim, it is most illogical to continue existing in this level of uncertainty when your emotions are invested so strongly. Why will you not speak to Dr. McCoy?”

 

Jim shifted, mumbling something. When Spock only glared, Jim sighed. “I don’t want it to end. If we talk about it, it will.”

 

“That is illogical.” The ultimate Vulcan verbal bitchslap.

 

Jim just rolled his eyes, “Humans are illogical.”

 

“Not of humanity, of you. You are being selfish.”

 

“Spock?”

 

“I would not be a friend if I did not speak the truth. It is illogical to expect Dr. McCoy to give you the emotional support you desire without stating that is what you desire.”

 

“I don’t know what he wants,” Jim near shouted. “I don’t know if I’m even allowed to expect anything. I ruined his marriage. I knew, I _knew_ that this whole threesome thing wasn’t going to end well. And I didn’t care. Because I got to have him and that’s what I wanted. So yes, I’m selfish. And it’s ruined everything for him. So how can I expect more, or ask him for more?”

 

Spock hesitated for just a moment before laying a calming hand on Jim’s shoulder, careful not to brush his skin. Jim calmed immediately. “Sorry.”

 

“Jim, I feel you misunderstand me. I do not believe you entered into the relationship with selfish intent. Or, at least no less selfish intent than either Dr. McCoy or Jocelyn McCoy. And while it was foolhardy to enter into such an arrangement without boundaries clearly defined, I do not believe you are the cause of the dissolving of the marriage. It is apparent there were significant problems prior to your arrival and you are not responsible for the fact that neither Dr. McCoy nor Jocelyn dealt with these issues in a logical manner.

 

“Where your behavior is selfish is in your continued silence on your feelings. Dr. McCoy is in a particularly unstable position at this time. What was known is gone and he is left with someone whom he harbors strong emotion for, but no formalized ties to. In short, he has no way of knowing that you wish to remain with him, that you would be amenable to a more significant commitment. Indeed, it is likely that he believes the opposite, as you were opposed to defining your prior relationship with him. It is selfish of you to expect him to offer you everything you desire, when you have offered him so little of what he desires.”

 

Jim was silent for a long while, considering the truth of Spock words and the frustration he felt that they did not immediately illuminate an answer. Finally, he just sighed, “I don’t know what he desires, Spock.”

 

And his voice was more gentle than usual, “Then the only logical thing to do is ask.”

 

 

***

 

 

Opening the door to his apartment, Jim took a steadying breath. He stopped by the bar on the corner and had a drink. Or two.

 

When he stepped through, he found Leo on his couch, Mason and Dixon piled into his lap, reading one of Jim’s books. He released a breath. Part of him honestly believed that he wouldn’t be here, that he would have left for Georgia. For Jocelyn. The more he had thought about Spock’s words, the more he realized they were true. He had never told Leo that he wanted anything else besides sex. No wonder he was upset when his marriage was over and all he was left with was an oversexed ass incapable of talking about his feelings.

 

Leo’s look was guarded, “Hey.”

 

Jim smiled weakly, eyes softening when Dixon flopped over to his back, clearly waiting for Leo to scratch his belly. Leo obliged and Jim shut the door behind him, “I’m sorry I’m late.”

 

It hurt Jim to see the skepticism on Leo’s face and he sighed, “I am sorry. I was talking with Spock and he said some things I needed to think about.”

 

Leo’s brows lifted at that. He folded the book around his forefinger and pulled his feet back a little, a silent invitation to sit. Jim gave him a smile, “Let me change and I’ll be right out.”

 

“I found the menu for the Punjabi place downstairs. They told me what you usually ordered. It’s in the kitchen.”

 

Jim shot him a grateful smile, “Maybe later. I, uh, I kinda need to talk to you about something.”

 

He disappeared into his bedroom before Leo could respond. Hurriedly, he stripped out of his uniform and into some jeans and a sweater. Coming back out into the living room, he found Bones now sitting up completely, back tucked against the couch, arms and legs crossed, the pups moved to the center cushion. His face was carefully blank, defensive. Jim sighed.

 

Sitting, he took a deep breath and then stopped. Surging to his feet, he shoved his hands into his pockets, “I don’t know how to do this, Bones.”

 

Leo frowned, brows pulled down, “I can’t help you. I’ve never been dumped by a guy before. You can call Jocelyn but she just had her lawyer ‘accidentally’ send my lawyer the divorce papers.”

 

“Dumped? God, Bones, I’m not _dumping_ you.”

 

If possible, he scowled further, “What? The what the hell is this all about?”

 

A suddenly bubble laughter came up, “God, Bones, you’re actually worse at this than I am. I’m not dumping you. I’m trying to tell you that I’m in love with you, you moron!”

 

“What?”

 

This _what_ came out strangled, hazel eyes that were made green today by the thick sweater he was wearing. The thick sweater Gaila had knitted for him. It thrilled something primal in Jim to see Leo wearing his clothes. And also stirred the contradictory urge to strip it right back off of him. _No_. He had to get through this.

 

He moved and perched on the coffee table in front of Leo, his hands gripping his own knees. “Look, none of this happened according to a plan. I went to Georgia expecting to rest for a few months and then eventually come back to Starfleet, get a ship, go out into the black again. Cause I never wanted to be anywhere else. Never belonged anywhere else. Never really had a home.

 

“And then I met you and you just . . . everything was . . . different. God, I suck at this. I just . . . I just wanted to be with you. However that was possible. So I didn’t want things defined cause I didn’t want a timeline set. And I didn’t say that I wanted . . . more, I guess, because I knew that I couldn’t have it. You were married. And I inserted myself in far enough already.

 

“And then Jocelyn, with the papers, and then everything just . . . you know. Then I was leaving and dying, and then there you were. Like the first time we met. You were there. And I thought we would just go back together, like before. Because I didn’t think you would want more, or that I could ask, and Spock said that if I didn’t know what you want then I should ask, so I am. Asking.”

 

Leo’s mouth opened and Jim held up his hands, “No, just . . . just know that it’s okay if you don’t want . . . you know. It’s fine. We can go back to like it was before. I’m fine with that.”

 

The brackets around Leo’s mouth had faded and his voice was abnormally soft. “Why are you fine with that?”

 

Jim sighed and looked away, trying not to let the incredible tension running through him show, “Cause I just want . . . you, Bones. However I can get you. For however long I can keep you. And I know that I ruined your marriage, and I’m so sorry, and if you want I can maybe call Joce-”

 

Leo stopped the run of words by lunging forward and pressing his lips against Jim’s lips, moving them gently until suddenly Jim’s hands were holding his jaw. Jim pulled away after a moment to find green eyes flecked with gold, staring at him with clear affection. Maybe even love?

 

Elegantly adept fingers traced his forehead and Leo whispered, “I lied to you. When I said you were just a lay. When I said you weren’t what I wanted. I lied.”

 

A shuddering breath left Jim and he leaned his head forward, resting it against Leo’s shoulder, hands trembling again Leo’s face. Leo turned slightly and pressed a kiss to the fingers closer to his mouth, “You’re all I’ve wanted for the last year. Everything I wasn’t supposed to want. But everything I needed. Need. I don’t know how this is gonna work, Jim. But I do want it to.”

 

 

 

And with those words Leo was being yanked to his feet, hands rushing up under his sweater, pulling it over his head. Hands were leading him to the bedroom, shoving him down, and a beloved weight was covering him.

 

He surrendered to the heat in a way he never had before. There was no room for words or pleas. No room for wants or greed. There was only Jim, filling him, overwhelming him until there could be nothing else. Just soft strokes of trembling hands and reverence in lush lips, all he could feel was the devotion he promised with his kisses, the love he pledged with his hips.

 

He never felt the tears escape his eyes, only the whisper of Jim’s breath on his cheeks, licking soft words against him. He never saw the tremble of Jim’s hands, only the joy in his eyes. And when they came, in a beautiful harmony solely their own, he didn’t feel the snap of hips or pulse of come. All he felt was Jim’s arms around him and the promise they held.

 

 _Mine, mine, mine_.

 

And Leo answered with his own promise.

 

 _Home, home, home_.

 

 

 

***

 

 

Jim’s birthday was never a day for celebration. It always started as a day of remembrance, memorial. This day was no different.

 

He stood with his mother, his brother, his nephews at the memorial erected for the Kelvin. The formal ceremony had been completed and everyone had given the five Kirks privacy before the only tangible evidence of the Kelvin and those who died on it. The memorial was made of the wreckage.

 

It wasn’t a hallmark anniversary. Thirty-three years was less exciting to report on than twenty-five or fifty. So there were fewer reporters milling about.

 

Jim was staring at the wreckage of the ship his father commanded for twelve minutes. “It’s weird, right, that they made the memorial out of the wreckage?”

 

Both Sam and Winona nodded. “George would have pitched a fit.”

 

Sam tilted his head, “I guess it’s supposed to be symbolic.”

 

Winona rolled her eyes and Jim just shrugged, “Morbid. Here, have the scraps of metal blown apart and probably covered with the blood of the people you loved.”

 

“Christ, Jim.” Sam swore. The boys giggled at their father expressing exasperation at someone else.

 

Winona shook her head, “No, he’s right. I’ve never liked this thing.”

 

“What were they supposed to do?”

 

“Leave it out in space,” Jim answered immediately. “I mean, build a memorial if you must, but don’t build it out of the wreckage and make the families wonder if their loved ones’ blood is somewhere in there. If I die in space, and god forbid I lose a ship as well, just . . . don’t let them do this.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes this time, “Why do you care? You’ll be dead.”

 

“True, but still.”

 

Winona peered around, “How much longer do you think we have to stand here, looking solemn and sad?”

 

Sam shoved his face into his palms, “Why am I the only one in this family with an ounce of sentiment?”

 

Jim looked to him, “Does standing here make you feel any closer to him?”

 

There was a long pause, Sam clearly not wanting to admit Jim was right. Finally he sighed, “No.”

 

Jim shrugged, “We build memorials for those we lost inside of us. And we pass those memorials on to the next generation. So isn’t it more fitting if we just go to a bar, grab a few drinks, and tell the boys stories about their grandfather?”

 

The boys, annoyed with their suits and having to be still and silent, chimed in with an enthusiastic, “Yeah!”

 

Sam started laughing helplessly and broke his gaze from the memorial, “Come on, then.”

 

Jim smiled happily, pleased his plan worked, and slung an arm around Winona’s shoulders, “Come on, Mom, let’s go find everyone and hit a pub. Just like any true Kirk would have wanted.”

 

 

***

 

 

So instead of a birthday dinner, they gathered everyone and had birthday drinks. The pub owner closed the bar to others (being the savior of the universe had its perks) and they all sat around and told their stories. Uhura spoke of the peace talks and a Romulan she’d been forced to kill in hand-to-hand, and Scotty of near engine failure and an engineer who had died in keeping them from going offline. Spock and T’Pring recounted the battle of _Vokau_ , and recalled the names of those who fell. Winona, who so rarely spoke of it, recounted the story of that day on the Kelvin, her memories of Captain Robau who’d been her mentor and friend, mesmerizing even her children, who suddenly realized how different it was when it was _her_ story.

 

Sam told his sons about his memories of his father . . . fishing and throwing a baseball, bedtime stories that consisted of Romulan battles and Klingon fistfights.

 

Chekov told the story of the aerial battle above Organia and the young pilot they had lost, Sulu of the ground battle and the Klingon who saved his life at the cost of her own. Gaila spoke of her sister, who had died in their flight from Orion. Leo told the story of his great uncle, who fought and died in the first Terran-Romulan war. Pike of the firefight that had claimed the life of Number One. And in all of their recountings, they made sure to speak the names of those who gave their last measure of devotion. 

 

So when Jim spoke, he caught Leo’s hand in his and spoke of Kevin Riley, a man who died before he could know peace, but who had never stopped dreaming of it. And when he was done, he lifted his glass, waiting for everyone to join and made his own birthday toast, “May those who are born from this day never forget the names of those we have lost and only know the peace they have bought. To Kevin.”

 

“Number One.”

 

“Horatio McCoy.”

 

“Alaina.”

 

“M’lara.”

 

“B’Matsu.”

 

“George.”

 

“Robau.”

 

“T’Ren.”

 

“Senek.”

 

“S’Talon.”

 

“Greenberg.”

 

When everyone’s glass was lifted, Jim smiled and offered words he had never thought attainable. Until now. Until Bones. “Peace and long life.”

 

And a family, diverse and born of love and devotion, echoed the words into a new universe that could fulfill their promise. “Peace and long life.”

 

 

 

The End.

 


	14. Epilogue: Promises Made and Promises Kept

_Four and a half years after Organia_

 

 

The sun was bright, spreading its warmth like an embrace to the guests who were gathered outside, gathered to watch this new beginning. The air was redolent of birth—bright greens of newly unfurled leaves, just a waft of sweet flowers that would transform to sweeter fruit, and cool undertones of rain that gave succor but kindly subsided for this day.

 

The broad leaves of surrounding trees made the light flicker, casting teasing shadows until shades of light twirled and swirled in a dance both primal and transcendent. A dance the two figures standing underneath an arch of vines and flowers were about to undertake themselves.

 

Words were spoken solemnly and joyously, the clear tones ringing out over those gathered, joining in with the songs of birds and twitters of small mammals intrigued by this incursion into their territory.

 

And when Christopher Pike took Eleanora McCoy’s hand to slide on the symbol of a love without beginning or end, Jim’s hands flexed and his eyes sought out the man standing beside Eleanora.

 

As the pair exchanged vows, Jim and Leo exchanged smiles, promises and memories mixing to twine the bonds of family into something more complete than it was before. And as Eleanora and Chris leaned in to seal those vows, as the sun shone and the birds chirped, Jim knew Leo was remembering their own ceremony and how they had gotten there . . .

 

 

***

 

 

 _Five months after Organia_

 

 

Jim stared at the PADD Leo had tossed on the desk. “Bones?”

 

Leo flopped down in the seat Jim’s students often took, stretching out his legs. Jim studied him; he looked exhausted. He’d been at the medical center for most of the prior evening and all morning. Jim was gonna have to have a little talk with Dr. Hashid about Leo’s schedule. He knew the man was excited about finally getting clearance for Leo to be listed as contracted civilian—cleared to work at the Starfleet Medical Center—but this was ridiculous.

 

Bones was only supposed to be working on a consulting basis, as he was now head of the San Francisco Medical Center’s neurology department. But he couldn’t say no when an interesting case came in. Or just any case at all. And Dr. Hashid was greedy. He’d keep Bones there all the damn time, even though he clearly had better things, people, to do at home.

 

Dr. Hashid would have to regulate Bones’ schedule cause Jim wasn’t above playing dirty. He would entice Bones home with the promise of outrageous sexual favors. And was, in fact, quite eager to follow through on every damn one now that he had Bones comfortably ensconced his house.

 

 

 

After everything had settled in January. Pike had come to Jim with a permanent offer and a ship. He’d been refused. The thought of spending years away from Bones was simply . . . not something he was willing to do. He was thirty-three and surprisingly found himself wondering what kind of life he and Bones could build together. He didn’t want to die alone on some crappy planet when he could be on Earth with Bones.

 

When he could have more than a life alone. He didn’t really know what that life would be, was a little hesitant to ask since Bones was technically still married, but if Jim dreamed of rings and maybe a kid . . . well, they were his damn dreams. Plus, they already had the two dogs. Jim didn’t even want to envision the havoc Mason and Dixon could wreck on a starship.

 

So, Jim had refused and smiled at the relief in Bones’ eyes, even as he’d muttered, “It’s your decision.”

 

Which is when Pike had come back with another offer, nine months in San Francisco and three months off- the schedule of a full professor- and Bones had urged him to take it.

 

“You can’t spend your life in Madison, Jim.”

 

“Why not? I could teach at UGA or Emory. I’d be teaching at Starfleet anyway.”

 

“You’d also be shaping future officers and I’m sure the Tactical division has plans for you.  And you’re supposed to head into Romulan territory with Spock every year. It offers you both more protection if you’re a member of Starfleet rather than a private citizen.”

 

Jim folded his arms across his chest, “Who’s the tactics expert, you or me?”

 

An eye roll of hazel eyes, “Yeah, cause common sense is so difficult. For people who aren’t you, I mean.”

 

“Nice, Bones.”

 

“Just take the damn job.”

 

“But what about-”

 

“Just take it! Or I’ll have to tell SF Med that I can’t be their head of neurosurgery aft- Mmh!”

 

Jim ripped his mouth from Bones’ after a long moment and grinned, “Okay. You win.”

 

 _Finally_.

 

 

Five months later they had settled into steady routine. Bones moved in with Jim in San Francisco and Jim moved in with Bones in Georgia, where they spent three months out of the year. Well, mostly three months. Sometimes Bones got called to Starfleet with an emergency, like yesterday so Jim had come in with him. Figured he’d use the time to look over lesson plans for the upcoming semester.

 

But now Bones was staring at him and Jim just sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose and turning his attention to the PADD. _Decree of Divorce._

 

“When are you going to let the ophthalmology department repair your eyes?”

 

Jim didn’t look up from the PADD, “They _think_ I’m not allergic to the new eye solution.”

 

“We’ve tested it on you three times.”

 

“Not my eyes.”

 

“Because you won’t let us.”

 

“Because I like being able to see. Yesterday morning, when you were getting out of the shower, I _really_ liked being able to see.”

 

The memory of Jim pushing him back into the shower was still fresh and Leo flushed a bit, shifting in his chair. Jim gave him a brief, but victorious, leer, “Besides you like my glasses.”

 

“I-”

 

“I distinctly remember you coming into my office last semester, no less than once a week, and shoving me onto my own desk. With the glasses on.”

 

Leo flushed some more, his own eyes becoming a little glazed before Jim’s laugh penetrated the fog of memory. “Well-”

 

“Besides,” Jim continued, going back to reading, “the girls in my classes love ‘em. Everytime I have to use ‘em in lectures they sigh. Then they come to office hours.”

 

“Jim-” a warning growled.

 

He just looked up and grinned unrepentantly, “Of course I only offer them my superior knowledge on tactics and military history. The results being that the female command track cadets are wildly outperforming the male cadets.”

 

Leo seriously doubted that. He’d met Jim on campus for lunch before and it wasn’t only the female cadets checking out Admiral Tight Pants. Leo had nearly snorted water out of his nose the first time he’d overheard a student refer to Jim that way. Jim had just grinned. Smug bastard.

 

“Hey Bones, can we concentrate on the fact that you’re divorced now?”

 

“It’s not like it’s a surprise. Jocelyn told us that it would come through in the next few days when we met her for lunch last Friday.” Bones’ brows were raised in amusement.

 

Jim immediately scowled, “I don’t like that new boyfriend of hers. I meant to write her.”

 

“And tell her you don’t like her boyfriend?”

 

“Hey, I’m a _superior_ judge of people. She should listen to me!”

 

“You liked the first guy she dated. The guy who turned out to be a reporter.”

 

Jim’s lower lip jutted out, “He was nice.”

 

“You mean he fawned over you.”

 

A half smile, “Well, who could blame the guy? Anyway, that’s not the point.”

 

“The point being that you think you should be able to tell my ex-wife and your former lover who she should date after her lover and her husband shacked up together?”

 

“Whom, Bones, whom.”

 

“Oh for the lo-”

 

Jim interrupted the exclamation, “I just think she could do better.”

 

Bones sent him an amused look and Jim actually flushed. “You know what I mean.”

 

Jim propped his chin his hands, “The point is . . . you’re no longer married. I’m no longer shacking up with a married man. Not compromising your morals. God, Bones, we’re _vanilla_ now.”

 

Laughter warred with annoyance, resulting in a look Jim was highly familiar with, “Jim-”

 

Rising up from behind his desk, Jim made his way around his desk, leaning against it, jutting out his hips and watching as Bones’ eyes fell to his crotch, where his half-hard cock was growing. “You’re gonna have to make me feel better about being in a perfectly respectable relationship, Bones.”

 

The other man didn’t take his gaze off Jim’s cock, licking his lower lip, his voice husky, “Yeah? You got any recommendations? Admiral.”

 

A slow smile bloomed across Jim’s face, “On your knees, Cadet McCoy.”

 

And when Leo sent a cool look to Jim before sliding onto his knees, smoothly undoing Jim’s pants and tugging them over his ass and taking in the bare cock underneath, he sucked Jim in smoothly and quickly after all these months of practice.

 

Then Jim was panting, biting his lip to hold back some of the cries, having become accustomed to quieter fucking in his office, and Bones was giving a last swirl of his tongue before standing, grabbing Jim mid-protest and whirling him around, shoving him forward so that gorgeous ass jutted out.

 

Large hands filled themselves with those cheeks, palming and squeezing firm muscle, pulling them apart and blowing air over that hot little hole. Jim cried out, stretching his arms forward the grab the edge of his desk as he felt a wet tongue, probing, licking into him.

 

“Fuck, Bones!”

 

Another lick, then hot breath, “Bones is your boyfriend, isn’t he, Admiral? That’s why scream his name when you’re coming around my dick, isn’t it? Does he know about me, Admiral? Does he know you like me to come into your office and suck you? Does he know you like me to shove you over your own desk and fuck you?” Jim shuddered under the weight of that growl, the game Bones had thrown him into.

 

“Does he know you’re so fucking easy I never come here without lube in my pocket? Because I know within ten minutes, this ass will be in the air while you beg me to fill it?” Two lube covered fingers slid deep into Jim’s ass and he cried out, flexing eagerly around those fingers before shifting his legs a little further apart.

 

“That’s it, darlin’,” Bones whispered before he remembered he wasn’t Bones right now. So he stood, twisting his wrist so he was now slamming the fingers into Jim, fucking him open and ripping deep, guttural moans out of him, “Does he wonder why you’re so fucking loose when you get home? Or do you shower first, washing my come out of your ass, hiding the pants streaked with me?”

 

Jim cried out when a slicked cock-head pushed against him, pushing him open to glide in the first inch, “ _Fuck_!”

 

The wickedly hot voice returned, now speaking right into Jim’s ear as Leo braced a hand over onto the desk, “Oh, I am, Admiral, going to fuck you.” And with a quick twist and hard push, Jim was feeling the rest of those generous inches pushing deep, making the walls of his ass burn as they stretched to accommodate. A harsh cry ripped out of Jim before he bit his lip, groaned under the rolling rhythm Bones started, “No, Admiral, let me hear you. Everyone knows what happens in here, anyway. Knows that when I come to see you, you’ll be coming soon afterward. Isn’t that right, Admiral?”

 

Bones gave him a hard thrust, shoving Jim forward, making him cry out, “YES!”

 

Then he was being fucked steadily, that hard flesh pushing in hard with each thrust, rubbing over his prostrate and making him jerk, moaning uncontrollably now, harsh sounds without words, desperate and greedy.

 

Jim’s face was plastered to the desk, eyes were shut, clenched behind fogged glasses he couldn’t see out of anyway, panting into his own arm while Bones shoved him into the desk with each thrust, his hips quickly becoming bruised. Bones was braced over him, fists planted against wood as he strained for control, groaning softly as he fucked deep, “Tell me, Admiral, tell . . . Christ! . . . tell me who’s fucki . . . who’s fucking you?!”

 

“Ca. . . Cade . . .” Jim stammered out before a particularly vicious thrust made the sound dissolve into a yelp.

 

“But is that who you’re thinking about, Admiral?” Bones growled out. “Who is it you want?”

 

Jim was just panting and shuddering at this point, helpless to do anything but lie there and take it, his cock so hard he couldn’t think. Could only feel.

 

His helpless moans were spurring Bones on faster until he was simply pistoning deep and fast, pounding into Jim’s prostate leaving him babbling breathlessly, “Tell me! Who do you want in you? Fucking tell me who you need!”

 

A blinding light was building behind Jim’s eyes and he could barely hear the demand enough. But a deep grind forced the answer out of his throat, “Fuck! Bones, I need you, Bones! Please, please!”

 

And was rewarded with a harsh cry and a firm hand squeezing his cock, jacking up and down as Jim damn near screamed as he shot stream after stream into a warm palm. His ass was still being fucked ruthlessly and Jim, who was barely managed to make his legs stay up under him, merely sighed when Bones collapsed over him and gave hard little thrusts with each stream of come pouring into him, mouth gently biting at Jim’s neck.

 

Short minutes, long minutes, whatever kind of minutes later, Jim managed to blink open his eyes only to be greeted by a foggy world, his glasses still smoky from heat and breath. Bones was moving slowly above him, forcing himself upright, both men groaning when he slid out of Jim, Jim flexing his ass to keep as much inside him as possible.

 

He allowed himself to be stripped and led by an equally naked Bones to the couch, allowed himself to be bundled into the back of it until he was wrapped in Bones’ arms, head pillowed on his chest. They lay in silence, catching their breath, for an endless amount of time later until Jim murmured, “Hey, Bones?”

 

“Hmm?” Was murmured sleepily.

 

Jim traced fingers around a still hard nipple, “Best divorce day ever.”

 

A smile tugged at those lips and a hand stroked over Jim’s shoulder until he settled once more. Another pause before a small whisper shuddered across Bones’ chest, “You’re all mine now. She can’t take you back.”

 

 

Silence. Leo’s eyes popped open and he looked down at Jim, who was pressing a kiss to his nipple. “Were you worried about that?”

 

A shoulder shrugged and Jim still didn’t look at him. Leo nudged his chin up until he was looking at surprisingly shy blue eyes and cursed himself for a fool. How did he not see this?

 

He though of the small box his mother had given him. A box that was sitting back in Georgia, waiting for the one-year anniversary of their first time together, which would come in two weeks. Thought of the plans he’d made and gave a mental shrug. Fuck it.

 

“Jim.”

 

A smile attempted to tug at that mobile mouth. “Yeah, Bones.”

 

“Marry me.”

 

Blue eyes widened almost comically and a breath rushed out of Jim. It was the most silent Jim had ever been while still conscious.

 

Two minutes passed. Then three.

 

Feeling nervousness flutter up in him, Leo scowled, “Dammit, Jim-”

 

“Bones, wh . . . but you just . . . and I . . . _what_?”

 

Amusement warred with exasperation. “For fucks sake! When a man asks you to marr-”

 

A golden laugh rang out and suddenly Jim was scrambling up, fully covering Leo and taking his lips, pressing hard against him. Before Leo could respond he was pulling away, muttering, “Fuck yeah!” and then burying his mouth back into Leo’s, tongue pushing its way in.

 

As Jim began to strip him of all thought, he clung to a last one. _Mine_.

 

 

 _Sixteen months after Organia_

 

It was supposed to be a clear morning. But like all of Jim Kirk’s plans, supposed to so rarely complied with what was. So on a late spring day that had historically not seen rain in twenty years, huge clouds gathered overhead and thunder was heard in the distance.

 

Eleanora had tried to convince Jim to have everything moved inside the house. “You don’t want everyone to get wet do you?”

 

“Who the hell invited them anyway?”

 

A sigh, “Jim, those are important guests.”

 

“Who shoe-horned their way into a day that has nothing to do with them. Besides, the Vulcan contingent will bring their own umbrellas and they’re the only ones I like.”

 

“It would be just as lovely inside. And dry.”

 

“No, we want it there. It’s the only thing we’ve asked for in this circus of a wedding and we’re keeping it!” Leo had rolled his eyes at this. Jim was a bridezilla in denial. He’d insisted on approval of the menu, all twenty-seven of them, gardenias, because he’d found out Leo had a preference for them, a chocolate cake, (because the Vulcans would be obliged to at least eat a part and apparently nothing was funnier than drunk Vulcans. Leo hadn’t had the energy to tell him a traditional Vulcan desert was being prepared as well), and a fiddler playing at the reception, because he was entirely too enamored of Charlie Daniels since moving to Georgia.

 

Each time one his desires had been questioned he’d invoked the _I-saved-the-planet-multiple-times-and-so-you-will-give-me-what-I-want card_. When Leo had questioned the ethics of this, Jim had just snorted, “I’m not going to be all Buffy about this and save the world quietly. Dammit, people will _bow_ before my awesome!”

 

How do you argue with that kind of insanity? Leo had simply shrugged and gone back to his medical journal. His opinion on the wedding wasn’t sought anymore than he wanted to give it. He’d had enough trying to choose colors with his first wedding, thanks.

 

Of course, the guest list had also been taken out of their hands. Weddings were a political affairs in the South and this was only made worse since it actually _was_ a political affair. Despite protests and pleas to elope from Jim, their wedding was held only one month after the one-year anniversary of the formalized peace treaty of the Federation, Klingon, and Romulan nations.

 

Their wedding was basically hijacked by the Admiralty and turned into a circus. Combine this with the complicated social ties of Southern families (of which Leo had a lot) and Jim and Leo been pushed out as control was turned over to the Starfleet Diplomatic Events Planning Corps and Eleanora.

 

It was when a frazzled Eleanora had pressed to move the wedding before it rained that Leo had heard the below from a few rooms down, “It is being held outside or NOT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

Which was why Leo was standing in his suit, peering up at the sky, wondering if someone had thought to bring umbrellas for the non-Vulcan guests, as the Vulcans had already pulled theirs out in preparation of the inevitable rainstorm. Jim was grinning at him, the light of revenge gleaming in his eyes as he approached the altar from the side.

 

There had been many attempts, by a mischievous Gaila, to get him to walk down the aisle.

 

“But, Jimmy, you’ll be the one in white.”

 

“I’m not the bride, Gaila!”

 

“I beg to differ and point to exhibit A. _You_ are the one wearing white.”

 

“Gaila, dress whites aren-”

 

“Exhibit B . . . it was Leo who proposed.”

 

“I would have! He just got to it first!”

 

“And Exhibit C . . . you’re prettier. I mean, Leo’s _hot_ , but you are just soooo pretty.”

 

“I kind of hate you right now.”

 

 

And before Jim could ban Gaila from the wedding entirely, Leo had stepped in and decided that they would just approach from the sides and there would be no aisle. This was agreed on by Starfleet’s diplomatic events corps since it eliminated the problem of Jim’s guests vastly outnumbering his own. Which conveniently also solved Leo’s own urge to strangle Jim.

 

 

“Bones, I win!”

 

“It’s not a contest, asshole.”

 

Jim peered at the sitting arrangements and the little gold flags that indicated his guests, “It certainly isn’t. People so love me more. Look! Even Mrs. McAllister RSVP’d as my guest.”

 

“Because she still feels guilty for nearly killing you. Especially after you saved the universe again. All she could talk about for _weeks_ was how her cooking nearly caused interstellar war.”

 

Jim frowned, remembering the annoyance of continually soothing the woman. But that was soon cleared, “But she agreed to cater the wedding. And you gotta love a woman who was willing to make dishes from twenty-seven different cultures so no one would be offended.”

 

“I think Starfleet giving her an entire catering staff helped.”

 

Jim shrugged, “But still, she chose me. After knowing you your whole life. Clearly, I am the more beloved. Interstellarly _and_ locally.”

 

“It helps that you’re a goddamn admiral in Starfleet and freakin savior of the damn universe,” Leo growled.

 

Leo just got a beaming smile as Jim pointed out smugly, “See . . . beloved.”

 

He’d only been shut up when Leo grabbed him and wrestled him to the floor, smothering those lips with his own. It was by far the most effective strategy in handling Jim Kirk.

 

 

And that smug smirk was back as a massive roll of thunder suspiciously close rolled as Pike began the ceremony. The skies cracked open as he began, “We are gathered here-”

 

A couple of people shrieked and moved for the cover of the trees, but Jim held tight to Leo’s hands and simply sent him a smile that weakened his knees too much to move. And the rain acted as an insulator.

 

In a ceremony where Klingons stood in full armor, arms crossed over chests, Romulans watched in amused disdain, Vulcans in polite interest, Southerners in abject curiosity, there was no one but Jim and Leo, watching each other’s eyes, not even noticing the rain pouring down their faces, listening to Pike join them together.

 

Leo didn’t care that the rain was cold or that his grey suit was drenched, didn’t care that most of the guests had retreated or were gingerly peering out from underneath the umbrellas. There was nothing but the shine of blue and flash of white, nothing but Jim murmuring, “Mine,” and lips taking his as a band was placed on his finger.

 

Leo offered his own ring, watching as Jim simply radiated enough joy to combat the rain when the physical proof of Leo’s possession was placed on his hand. And Pike was quietly pronouncing them legally joined, not offering anyone the chance to object, and wryly informing that they could kiss . . . again.

 

And in a moment Leo would never forget, Jim lifted his face to the sky, laughing as the clouds broke and turned the last drops of rain into liquid sunshine, and Leo brought him in, swallowing that laughter and taking it and the light of Jim into himself.

 

 

***

 

 

 _Four and a half years after Organia_

 

 

So as the minister pronounced Eleanora and Chris husband and wife, as they kissed, Leo stared into the eyes of his husband and returned the beaming grin with the slow smile that never failed to make Jim laugh in delight.

 

Chris and Eleanora walked forward, hand in hand, grinning as they moved down the aisle, and Leo and Jim met in front of the altar, Jim taking his hand, “Better weather today. Wanna give it another shot, Bones?”

 

And Leo, uncaring of this very public occasion and that fact that it was not his wedding, grabbed Jim’s face and pressed a kiss to those smiling lips, “Wouldn’t change a thing.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The lines come from William Blake's poem 'To the Evening Star'. It can be read here: http://www.portablepoetry.com/poems/william_blake/to_the_evening_star.html.


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